


Smitten

by mahbecks



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Jokes, Banter, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, Romance, Slow-ish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/pseuds/mahbecks
Summary: The new professor is sweet.Felix hated sweet things.Why, then, was he spending so much time with her?Or: Felix realizes he wants to bang Byleth, Sylvain tries to help, and things do not go As Planned.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 77
Kudos: 317





	1. Felix

**Author's Note:**

> Help me, I've spent entirely too many hours in quarantine playing this game, and this is the result. 
> 
> Everyone is post-time skip ages, no one is dead, and everyone is happy because that's how it goes.

“Oh, the acting professor is so sweet. Don’t you think so, Annie?”

“She sent me flowers for my birthday a few weeks ago! I didn’t even know she _knew_ my birthday.”

“She’s precious,” Mercedes agreed. “Just last week, I asked her if we could meet to discuss my thesis project. I was expecting to meet in her office, but she took me out to this darling little tea house.” She sighed. “It was such a lovely time. And I got so many great ideas!” 

Felix snorted into his breakfast, and Mercedes turned towards where he, Sylvain, and Ingrid were sitting. “You don’t think so, Felix?” she asked, frowning. 

Felix was fairly certain there wasn’t one single thing about Not-Quite-Professor Byleth Eisner that could be called “precious”. Annette and Mercedes, now they were the type of people who someone might refer to as sweet. 

But Byleth? 

Hell no. He’d seen her fight. She played dirty, and she played to win. 

“That’s… not how I’d describe her,” he said finally. 

Mercedes seemed to decide that this was an anomaly, moving on to Sylvain. “Well, what do you think, Sylvain? Isn’t the professor sweet?” 

“Oh, for sure,” he agreed, “Definitely. She has got the sweetest ass - ow, fuck!” He turned to the side, scowling at a perfectly innocent Ingrid. “Why, yes, Ingrid, that was my foot you just stomped on, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Ingrid chirped. 

He turned back to Felix. “Can you believe this?”

“Yes.”

Sylvain sighed and turned back to Mercedes. “I was just trying to say that our acting professor is as beautiful a person on the outside as she is on the inside,” he said. “Totally innocent comment.”

“Sure it was,” Ingrid retorted. “Now finish your breakfast - we’ve got training in twenty minutes.” 

Sylvain grumbled but went back to his toast. 

“Personally,” she continued, “I think the professor’s very nice! Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to like her as much as I do.” 

That made two of them, then. 

Felix didn’t normally take to people. They were loud, or stupid, or even worse - both. Ingrid and Sylvain were different; he’d known the two of them since he was a child. He hadn’t so much taken a liking to them as he’d been forcibly thrown together in a playpen with them. Still, he found them much less annoying than he did the general population. 

Which was why he’d been surprised at just how much he liked their professor for this term. She was… interesting. Unorthodox. She kept him on his toes, both in class and when they were sparring, and she didn’t take any of his bullshit. 

That had never happened with any of his other mentors. 

“Not hungry, Felix?”

He blinked, his gaze flitting over to Ingrid and then back down to his food. “Not for this,” he said, scrunching his nose in distaste as he pushed the food away. 

He’d asked for oatmeal - a simple request, he’d thought. What he’d gotten was this disgusting pile of warm, brown goop, so much brown sugar and maple syrup loaded into the oats as to make it nearly inedible. He’d forced his way through half the dish, but that was as far as he was likely to get. 

“You don’t like it?” Mercedes asked. “I think it’s delicious!”

“It’s too sweet.”

“Oh, it’s just right for me - the perfect balance of sweet and savory.” She brought another spoonful to her lips, humming happily. “And I know my sweets!

Felix didn’t understand how anyone could want _that_ much sugar in one dish. It made his teeth hurt just thinking about it. He’d have to remember to ask for something else tomorrow - eggs, maybe. Or a bagel. As it was, he’d had about as much as he could stomach. 

“I’m done here,” he said, pushing to his feet with his half-eaten food. “See you at training.”

“Hey, wait!” Sylvain said, hopping to his feet. “I’ll come with you!” 

His longer strides easily caught Felix in a matter of seconds, and after dropping their plates off at the garbage disposal, they made their way out of the dining hall and towards the training field. It wasn’t too far of a walk, and Felix felt no need to fill the time with idle chatter. But Sylvain was a different matter.

“So, no comment on the professor’s sweetness?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Really, nothing?”

“I think _your_ comment was more than enough.” 

Sylvain scoffed. “Come on, Felix, you spend so much time with her! You have to have _some_ opinion.”

“We train, not gossip.”

“Oh, sure, it’s just hours of you two hitting each other with sticks or seeing who can run around the track the fastest. There’s no talking there, none at all.” 

There hadn’t been at first - an occasional taunt, a word of advice. Byleth was like him in that sense. When they were training, they were _training._ All focus was on what they were doing in that moment, with little thought to spare for anything else. It would be the same way in real life, if the simmering tensions in Fodlan ever spilled over into outright war. His focus would need to be on cutting down his enemies, not getting to know his opponent. 

But… in time, they’d gradually begun to talk more and more. As they cooled down after practice, in the few minutes they had before others showed up for class. It had been little things at first - “ _Who taught you that move?”_ and _“Where did you get that K-tape? I need some for my shin splints.”_

Only recently had things taken a turn towards the more serious. His family, her lack of one; the weight of parental expectations; what life would look like if relations with the Empire continued to decay… the kind of things he couldn’t even talk about with Sylvain and Ingrid, if he were being frank. 

“I think you like her.”

“What?”

“The professor - you like her.”

Felix supposed he did; Byleth was friendly without being nosy, and she had a no-nonsense approach to teaching he liked. She was honest, too, never shying away from a critique if she felt one needed to be made. He appreciated that - too many people beat around the bush for his liking. Better to have an inconvenient truth than a lie. 

He still didn’t know that he’d call her sweet though.

He liked Byleth, after all, and he did not like sweet things.

The logic was sound.

Beside him, Sylvain sighed. “I guess it’s too bad we won’t have her again next semester.”

Felix stopped where he stood. “What?” he asked sharply.

Sylvain, a few steps ahead now, turned back to look at him, laughing. “Dude, classes end next week, and finals are the week after that,” he said. “Come on, I know you don’t pay much attention to that kind of stuff, but even you had to know the semester was ending.”

Of course Felix knew that, but he hadn’t considered-

“Besides, she’s not even a real professor, yeah? Just filling in for her dad while he was recovering from that back surgery.” 

But where would she go? Would she… leave? Would she get a new job at the school, or-

“Even if she was staying on, we’re moving to modern warfare next semester,” Sylvain continued, crossing his arms behind his head. “You know - Seteth’s specialty.”

Felix crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. He didn’t have anything against Seteth - not really. As a professor, he was competent and not especially boring, even if he could be a bit of a tool. 

But he wasn’t Byleth. 

Sylvain was oblivious to Felix’s minor crisis. “Man, I’m in for a rough one. Seteth _hates_ me. And I can’t figure out why, either. What’d I ever do to him?”

“He thinks you’re hitting on Flayn.”

As one, they turned, just in time to see Ingrid come to a stop behind them. 

Sylvain gaped at her, dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was. But honestly, Sylvain, can you blame him?” 

“Flayn. Seriously.” 

“What, not your type?”

“Not even the slightest. Come on, even I have _some_ boundaries-”

Felix snorted. 

“Oh, what, you too?” Sylvain demanded.

“You have no boundaries,” Felix replied.

“None,” Ingrid confirmed.

“If you see a line, you jump right across it-”

“-happily, waving your middle finger as you go-”

“-consequences be damned.”

Sylvain pouted. “Rude,” he retorted. “My friends are _rude-”_

“They’re also right,” a voice interjected. 

A smiling Dimitri, followed by a not-smiling Dedue, passed them on the way into the complex that housed the training field. “Good morning, Sylvain, Ingrid,” he offered. “...Felix.” 

Felix scowled, and the prince’s grin slipped a little. Felix considered that a personal victory.

Dimitri turned back to Sylvain, a more receptive audience. “But come now, Sylvain, no need to dwell on that.” His smile returned, teasing this time. “I’m sure you can convince Seteth you don’t want to sleep with his sister.” 

“I appreciate the confidence, but seriously, _no_ one is that good-”

“His Highness and I have full faith in you, Sylvain,” Dedue offered.

“The utmost!” Dimitri agreed. 

“Stop it, your Highness, before he figures out you’re just teasing him,” Ingrid said, giggling. “And come on, all of you - we don’t want to be late!” 

The three of them passed into the building, leaving Felix and Sylvain alone once more. 

“I’m doomed, Felix,” Sylvain offered. 

“You’ll manage.” 

“I’d always thought I’d just, you know, annoyed Seteth with my general presence. I didn’t know he was actually comtemplating _murder_ every time he saw me because he thinks I want to bang his sister-”

“Both. It’s probably both.”

“-and I don’t, by the way. I've been flirting with that girl Marianne in Hanneman’s class, and let me tell you, Felix, I do _not_ want to mess that up-”

“I don’t care.” 

“I know.”

He hopped up the steps, grabbing for the door handle. At the last second, he paused, considering something.

“Say, do you want to bang the Professor?”

For once, Felix was at a complete loss for words. He just stood there, staring, unable to come to up with a single retort, like a fucking idiot. 

Him.

Felix Hugo Fraldarius, unable to throw something back in someone’s face. 

Sylvain smirked. “Just something to think about,” he said. “Don’t be late, though. Wouldn’t want the professor to worry about you - because she’s sweet like that, you know.” He winked at Felix before stepping inside.

_Isn’t the professor sweet?_

_I think you like her._

_Do you want to bang the professor?_

This…

...was bad.

* * *

Felix had been in worse situations.

Logically, he knew this.

Demonic beasts? No problem. Raids along the northern border with Sreng? He’d been dealing with that since he was fourteen, his father and Sylvain at his side. 

And yet, somehow, the thought of Sylvain coming to the conclusion that he wanted to have sex with their professor topped them all. 

He huffed out a breath, frustrated, as he set his training bag down on the floor by his desk. 

What had he said to give Sylvain this impression? That he liked Byleth? That seemed innocuous enough; he liked… a handful of people. But trust Sylvain to take an idea and run with it. Give him an inch, and he’d take a mile.

The more troubling notion was that his friend might be onto something. He did like Byleth, enough so that the thought of her just disappearing on him after this semester was over troubled him. He’d grown used to their sparring sessions and post-workout talks, and he actually looked forward to her classes every other weekday morning. To think that that might all suddenly vanish, to be replaced with lessons with _Seteth-_

“Gross.”

Sylvain stood in the doorway of their shared dorm room, wrinkling his nose at the general state of Felix. “You haven’t showered yet? It’s been at least half an hour since training ended.”

Felix shot him a dirty look. “I was thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.” Sylvain plopped down into a chair, running a hand through his own recently washed, still damp hair. “About what, might I ask?”

“You may not.”

“Is it what I said earlier?” When Felix didn’t respond, his grin widened. “It _is,_ isn’t it?” He sighed happily, leaning further back in the chair. “So - you have the hots for Byleth.”

Felix winced. “Don’t say that.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You should - I mean, I would, were I in your situation.”

Felix scowled. “Of course you would.”

“Well, what’s holding you back?”

At least ten very distinct things, the most pressing of which was that he didn’t know whether or not Sylvain was right about Felix’s… feelings. He hadn’t given this nearly enough thought. 

“Is it the student-teacher thing? ‘Cause I really don’t think that’s necessarily an issue here. One,” he said, holding up a finger, “She’s not really a professor; she’s just filling in for her dad. We’re not even getting grades; it’s all pass-fail. Two,” he continued, holding up another, “Said dad is coming back to work in three weeks. So she’ll be just another person living on university property. And finally, you guys are like the same age. There’s not even a big power differential between you guys.”

“What?” 

“A power differential - you know.” At the blank look Felix was sure was on his face, he added, “That’s the big reason student-teacher relationships are bad. The teacher has power over the student, so any relationship between the two is imbalanced. They aren’t equals. That’s emphasized when the teacher is a lot older than the student.”

“Why do you know this?”

“Sexual harassment seminar, freshman orientation, day three. You were there. Though some of us paid more attention than others, clearly.” 

Felix had no memory of this.

“Look, you want my advice? Wait a few weeks until the semester is over. She won’t be your professor, you won’t be her student, and you all can fuck each other’s brains out.”

“That is-”

“Or, if you think that’s too fast, you could just ask her to hang out,” Sylvain offered. “Take things slow, see where it goes.”

- _not terrible advice._

Felix snapped his mouth shut. 

“Just tell her how you feel.”

...but how did he feel? How was he supposed to tell her something he didn’t know?

It wasn’t so easy. 

“Whatever you decide, Felix, just don’t wait too long to do it - she said she’s roamed from place to place her whole life, right? Wouldn’t want her to up and leave before you get to shoot your shot.”

Shoot his shot.

Ridiculous.

He stood, grabbing his towel and shower sandals. “I’m going to shower,” he said, putting an end to the conversation before his head started hurting any more than it already did.

“Good - you reek.”

He bit back the retort on his lips, for once deciding it wasn’t quite worth it to have the last laugh, and pushed his way through the hall to the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes and yanking the stall door shut behind him. Turning the water on, he stepped underneath the spray before it had a chance to warm up, the icy water a shock to his system.

He rubbed at his face with one hand, reaching for the tie that held his hair back with the other. It fell around his face like a dark wave, and he irritably pushed it back. 

Loathe as he was to admit it… Sylvain wasn’t wrong.

There wasn’t really an easy way to go about this. Regardless of what he ultimately decided to say to Byleth - if he ended up telling her anything at all - his time was limited. He had two weeks until the semester ended, and then she was gone - potentially, for good. He needed to figure things out before it got to that point.

And then - he’d act. 

It was as good a plan as any. 

But, actions aside, what was he supposed to _say?_

Felix decided then and there that he wanted to amend his previous assessment. This was not merely bad.

This…

...was a nightmare.


	2. Sylvain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)

Sylvain wasn’t stupid. 

Sure, he might let people think that from time to time, to get out of doing things he really didn’t want to do - but it wasn’t because he _couldn’t_ do those things. He just didn’t always want to be the person people went to to solve problems.

Take Annette - brilliant, hard working Annette. She was easily one of the smartest people Sylvain knew, acing every test and breaking every curve an empathetic professor might throw their way. The problem was, everyone else knew it too. She was constantly fielding requests to lead study groups and tutor struggling students, and Sylvain had lost count of how many people he’d overheard asking to copy her notes. She dealt with it all with a smile on her face, but Sylvain knew it had to be annoying. 

If people knew that he was almost as good as Annette, they’d no doubt be coming to him too. And while Sylvain was happy to help out on most occasions, that required a _whole_ lot of effort that he didn’t necessarily want to give. Call him a lazy underachiever (which Ingrid did, often), but he preferred to think of it as... prioritizing how he expended his energy. Classwork was relatively low on that list.

He was a slacker, for sure - but he wasn’t an idiot. 

So when his off-hand comment about sleeping with Byleth had made Felix go stiff as a board, Sylvain had known then and there he’d hit gold. And then Felix had gone and _continued_ acting all out of sorts for the next three days, just further confirming the hypothesis that his friend had it bad. 

It was adorable, really.

Felix hadn’t ever been much of a people person, and Sylvain thought he was in a pretty good position to know. They’d met back when they were still in diapers, and given how their fathers ran in the same high-brow political circles, it was a given that they’d been sent to the same boarding schools, the same prep academies. He was a couple years older than Felix, but that hadn’t stopped them from becoming friends. Good thing too, because Felix didn’t take a shine to just anyone.

But that just made his attraction to Byleth all the more serious - and interesting. Felix wasn’t the type to fall head over heels for just anyone. In all the years they’d been friends, Sylvain could count the people Felix had been obviously interested in - sexually or otherwise - on one hand. And Byleth was the first in a… hell, Sylvain wasn’t even sure how long it had been. A few years? She was definitely the first person he’d shown any interest in since they’d started university a couple years ago.

What was it that drew Felix’s attention, he wondered?

Byleth was pretty - and athletic. But good old Garreg Mach was a decent sized college. There were plenty of pretty and athletic people walking around. And honestly, Felix wasn’t the type to date a person just based on their appearance. No, it had to be something else. 

Something… more personal. 

Sylvain sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know the professor as well as Felix; they were friendly, and they’d eaten together a few times in the dining hall. But their conversations had been short and to the point, her attention always being drawn away to someone else. So he couldn’t say what about her it might’ve been that had caught Felix’s eye. 

But maybe that was the wrong way of looking at it. Maybe it wasn’t any one particular thing about her that Felix liked. Maybe one thing had just led to another, and they’d gotten to talking and training together, and what had started as something totally boring and innocuous on Felix’s part had turned into something more… complicated. With feelings. And emotions. And all of the other things Felix hated talking about. 

Hey, stranger things had happened. 

Did Byleth share those feelings, he wondered?

That was the million dollar question.

He’d not noticed anything especially telling, but then again, if she _did_ reciprocate _,_ she wouldn’t have made it obvious. Byleth had the best poker face of anyone he’d ever met, and that included Dedue, a man who had once kept a completely straight face while claiming to have been tending the prince’s _houseplants_ when Sylvain had caught him creeping out of Dimitri’s room at three in the morning. 

She did seem to smile a lot around Felix - even when they were sparring. And she seemed to make a point to say something to him each class. But was that any different than how she’d treat any other student? She made a point to talk to Sylvain too, and Dimitri, and Ashe, and - 

Yeah. That was a dead end. 

And, he reminded himself, that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Smiles and friendly conversation didn’t mean someone wanted to _jump_ you.

He made a frustrated noise, grabbing for his phone. “There has to be something,” he muttered, flicking through his old text messages with Felix. They were rather sparse, and truth be told, Felix wasn’t much of a texting kind of guy, but maybe, just maybe, he’d mentioned something…

There.

Three weeks ago.

< _Sylvain > Hey. That movie you like is on again. Wanna watch? _

_ < Felix > Can’t. I’m training. _

_ < Sylvain > At 9? On a Friday night? Why? _

_ < Felix > Byleth was free. _

_ < Sylvain > Again - why? _

_ < Felix > She had plans, but they didn’t work out. So now we’re training. _

_ < Sylvain > But it’s Friday. _

_ < Felix > So? _

_ < Sylvain > Friday is for fun times! F-U-N. _

_ < Felix > Training is more important. _

_ < Sylvain > You’re hopeless. _

It was short - just a snippet of information. But it was something.

Byleth had had plans, and they’d fallen through. Felix had been the first one she’d thought to call. And she hadn’t just hit him up for a short, after-class session; this had been an invite for an after-dark, one-on-one session where they’d been _almost certainly_ alone in the training complex. 

Did that… mean anything? Was he reading too much into this?

He needed a second opinion. 

Sylvain looked up, scanning the small section of the library he’d been holed up in for the past couple of hours. There weren’t too many people here - precisely why he’d picked it - but there had to be _someone_ who could help - ah! 

“Dorothea!” he whisper-shouted, trying to attract his friend’s attention. 

She didn’t even bother to look up. “What do you want, Sylvain?”

“C’mere - got something I want to show you.”

“Aw, honey. I hate to break it to you like this, in such a public setting, but I’m not interested in that sort of thing. Not yours, anyways.”

Harsh. 

...he kind of liked it.

“I want to show you something _else._ ”

“Is it a book that will help me deconstruct the tragic plays of Fodlan’s past in precisely the manner Professor Manuela wishes me to?” 

“Ah… no. No, it’s not.”

“Then again - not interested.”

“It’s about Felix. And Byleth.”

That got her attention. Dorothea looked up from her work, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity. “Felix _and_ the professor?”

“Here.” He set his phone down on the table and gave it a shove, launching it ten feet down the wooden surface. She caught it with a deft hand, green eyes flicking down to the screen.

“What am I looking at?” 

“Hopefully, a conversation I had with him a few weeks ago.”

“Yes… I see that… late night training with Byleth? How scandalous.” 

“Is it?”

“Well, she’s certainly not asked _me_ to come to any late night sessions to work on _my_ form.”

“You see it too, then.”

Dorothea frowned thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her lips. “It is odd that she’d contact Felix, of all people,” she said. “She trains so much with him already. Does he really need the extra practice?” 

Of course he didn’t.

Felix wasn’t the tallest or the strongest guy around. But what he lacked in size, he made up for in speed, stealth, and sheer fucking intensity. Anything athletic, and Felix was good at it - running, fencing, those weird endurance workouts where you lifted tires and jumped on boxes and slammed medicine balls on the ground. So, no, he didn’t need the extra practice; he just… kept doing it anyway. Sylvain had tried to get him to lighten up on the sessions and take a day off now and again. Once - he'd mentioned it exactly one time.

He’d lost half an eyebrow and his favorite t-shirt in that incident.

“If she’d wanted to offer the help to the student who needed it most, surely she’d have gone with someone who has a harder time, like Ashe,” Dorothea continued.

“He’s a lover, not a fighter.”

“Or maybe Mercedes? Just someone who isn’t already so skilled.” She paused, working through a thought. “So, then, if she didn’t reach out to the student who needed help… maybe she picked the one she liked the most?” 

It made sense - in a way. If training that late on a Friday night made sense at all. 

Personally, he didn’t really understand being that hellbent on getting in some extra training when one could be, you know, doing _fun_ things on a Friday night, but it took all kinds, he supposed. 

“You have a picture of a flower set as my photo in your contacts.”

Sylvain blinked. He did? 

“A rose.”

Ah - right. She’d said something about them having thorns to him once, and it had stuck. In more ways than one, clearly.

Dorothea didn’t seem to approve of this though, lifting the phone up and snapping a photo of herself. “There,” she said, beaming, turning the phone back towards him so he could see what was, to her credit, a fantastic selfie. “That’s better.” She slid the phone back towards him, and he pocketed it. 

“Do they do this often? Felix and Byleth, I mean.”

Sylvain snorted. “Only all the time.”

“Hmm.”

“Thoughts?”

“Well, it’s just - it makes me curious if training is all that’s happening here. Could she be teaching him something else? Something he wouldn’t get from her in class.” 

_Kinky._

“He’s too good for it to be extra credit. So if it’s not something completely different, I just can’t think of another reason for them to be spending so much time - oh. _Oh._ ” She paused, and then violently shook her head, auburn curls flying every which way. “No. No, that can’t be right.” She looked up at Sylvain, hesitating. “Can it?”

“I have to admit, I’ve come to a similar conclusion.”

“But this is _Felix._ ” 

“I know.”

“I watched him practice fencing for _two hours_ once, and he didn’t so much as glance in my direction. I had to throw something at him to get his attention.”

“Book?”

“Shoe.” She shrugged. “I let him borrow my notes for a class he missed. I needed them back.”

“...so you waited for two hours?”

“I _desperately_ needed them back _._ But that’s beside the point. Felix ignores anything he deems a distraction. He’s single minded to a fault.”

“And?”

“And he was the _first_ person Byleth contacted when she found out she was going to have free time.”

“...to be fair, he probably didn’t have much else going on. So maybe it was just... convenience?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, that isn’t how it works. If you have plans, and they fall through that late at night, you go home. You grab a glass of wine, put on a movie, and fall asleep halfway through your popcorn. You don’t call someone up and make new plans - not unless you _really_ want to see them.”

Sylvain nodded. “See, that’s what I thought! So Byleth…”

“She wanted to see Felix. She wanted to see him _bad_.” She frowned, resting her chin on her hand. “How did I miss this?”

“Don’t feel bad - I missed it too.”

“And Felix? Does he feel the same way?”

“Well… he hasn’t _said_ anything-”

“Not using his _words,_ I’m sure, but what are his actions saying?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s head over heels. Totally in love.”

Dorothea squealed, scooting forward into the chair directly beside his. “Tell me everything. When did you first know how he felt? Has he made a move? Or has she?”

Sylvain sighed. “As far as I can tell, neither of them has done anything-”

“Oh, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me-”

“Hey!” The both of them turned to see a very stern Lysithea von Ordelia glaring at them, hands on her hips. “Some of us are trying to study here. Or didn’t you notice? This is a _library._ Be quiet.”

“Sorry,” Sylvain said, “We’ll keep it down.” 

Lysithea didn’t look like she believed him. “You’d better,” she snapped, turning back to her book.

Sylvain kept his eyes on Lysithea as he leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Why do I get the feeling she would turn me into a bug and squish me if I pissed her off?”

“Because she could, and she would,” Dorothea replied, voice equally soft. “But back to Felix. You say he likes Byleth. As far as we can tell, she seems to like him back. And they are doing _nothing_ about it?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” 

She sighed, putting her head in her hands. “This is like something out of an opera - and not in a good way.”

“Hey, if you have any ideas short of locking them inside a room together until they confess or fuck, I’m listening.”

She shook her head. “Much as I’d love to meddle… I don’t think we can. Not with these two - they have to do this on their own. If we try to intervene, they’d just panic and bolt.”

“Aw, but meddling is _fun-_ ”

“No, Sylvain,” Dorothea said firmly. “Felix wouldn’t forgive that easily.”

He probably wouldn’t forgive it at _all_ , but if it worked…

Sylvain sighed. “You’re probably right,” he conceded glumly, folding his hands behind his head. “He’d probably clam up and never talk to me - or Byleth - again.”

That was what had happened the last time Felix had been interested in someone. Ingrid had encouraged him to go for it, to the point of actually setting Felix and his potential hook-up on a date that Felix didn’t know was a _date,_ and, well… they’d all been threatened under pain of a pizza pan to the face to never enter that particular restaurant ever again. 

And that was when Felix had been _fifteen._ Who knew what hell he could raise now: seven years older, five inches taller, and legal on all continents?

“These two, honestly…” Dorothea sighed. “She’s almost as bad as he is, you know. Deflection, _constant_ deflection. And they’re both so _obtuse_ \- you know, maybe that’s why they like each other. They’re so similar. But…”

He perked up, intent. 

Dorothea eyed him warily. “I don’t want to get too involved here; _they_ need to be discussing this, not us. But I _could_ , perhaps... talk with Byleth, and see if she would admit to anything. It would take a bit of maneuvering to get the conversation where we need it to go, but I think I’d be up for the challenge!”

“You think she’d admit it?” 

“To you? No. Don’t pout, you know it’s true.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“You most certainly are.”

“And you think she’d admit it to you?”

Dorothea smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Sylvain, I’ve been charming trust fund babies out of their life savings for _years,_ and you think I can’t get our professor to admit she likes a man? I’m a little insulted.” 

“Alright, alright!” he said, laughing - softly, so Lysithea wouldn’t emulsify him. “Fair point!”

“I’ll text you when I’m meeting with her.” 

“Eh, not to rush, but… think you can make it sooner rather than later?”

“Why?”

“We’re working on a limited schedule here.”

“The semester _is_ almost over,” Dorothea conceded. “I still have a term paper to write, but… oh, hell, I’ll check my schedule. I’ll need a writing break anyways. But if I’m going to help with this, I really need to get working on this project for Manuela. So - off you go!” 

“Consider me gone. And hey - thanks. Really. I appreciate this."

Dorothea blew him a kiss. "Anytime, handsome." 

He stood, smirking as he shoved his things into his backpack. "Handsome, am I?" he asked.

"Quit while you're ahead."

All of the breath left him a rush, his smirk morphing into a grin. "Will do." He made for the stairs, reaching for his phone again to shoot Felix a quick text, when Dorothea reached out, snatching his hand.

“Wait.”

Too surprised to do much else, Sylvain stared as she deftly pried the half-eaten bag of chips out of his fingers, plopping it down beside her books. Her prize obtained, she reached in and popped one into her mouth, winking up at him. 

“These can stay.” 

“You want my soda too?”

“Do you have one?”

Wordlessly, he handed it over. 

Dorothea’s eyes sparkled. “You’re a dear," she cooed, taking a sip. "Writing is such _thirsty_ work.” 

Anyone else, and the entire exchange would've been rude. 

Somehow, Dorothea made it sexy. 

"Dangerous," Sylvain muttered. "You are dangerous."

Dorothea's laugh followed him down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, (mis)typing into my phone when I should be working: manuvrring
> 
> phone: ah, yes, I see what happened here. she CLEARLY meant to say - kanye ring
> 
> thank you, autocorrect, for that interpretation of my prose 
> 
> next chapter: actual interaction between the lovebirds in question!


	3. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)

“My hamstrings can fucking bite me.”

Felix turned, watching as Byleth pulled her leg further in towards her chest in an attempt to stretch out the offending muscle. It was impressive, really - he was nowhere near that flexible. If she tried, she could probably tap her forehead with the tip of her toe. 

She swung the other leg up to join the first, stretching both at once, and Felix had to look away, lest he be caught looking at her ass. She’d already caught him staring at her once; much to his chagrin, he’d muttered something stupid about being impressed by her flexibility. She’d given him an odd look - _of course she had, because it was a weird fucking thing for him to say_ \- but let it go. At least he hadn’t said something about how insanely hot it was that she could apparently bend herself over backwards and twist her legs into a-

“Dad says I should go see a chiropractor or something, someone who can really dig into the muscle tissue and get the tightness out.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“Yeah?” She looked up at him through her bangs, green hair plastered to her forehead. “You know anyone who could give me a good rub down?”

Felix nearly choked. “Never been to one.”

“Ah. Too bad.” Byleth winced as something pulled, and then released her legs, letting them fall back to the ground with a soft thud. “I’d try to find someone myself, but I don’t think chiropractors are covered by university insurance. Not official doctors, and all.” 

“Have you tried icing it?” 

“And heating pads,” she said, nodding. “Nothing works for long.” She huffed out a breath in frustration. “I’d just try to massage it out myself, but it’s in kind of a difficult spot.” She shifted, rolling over onto her back, and pointed to a spot just below the hem of her shorts. “It’s just here,” she said, straining to poke the muscle, “ _right_ out of my reach.”

He could offer to help. She might not be able to reach it, but he certainly could. 

It wasn’t the tightness in her leg that was the problem. It was the fact that her leg was connected to her ass, and ever since Sylvain had uttered that _stupid_ question five days ago, he couldn’t stop _thinking_ about said ass. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself enough to resist that particular temptation.

He looked away again, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to force himself still. “Go see a masseuse - maybe they can help.” 

She was watching him - he could tell. Still, he refused to meet her gaze. He didn’t know what she’d see in his eyes, but he wasn’t quite ready for her to find it. 

“Yeah, maybe,” she said, voice soft. 

Though she was finished with her stretches - and Felix had long since completed his own routine - Byleth made no move to get up. She seemed content to lay stretched out on the floor in this new position, torso propped up on her elbows. The both of them would have to leave soon; the training grounds closed at ten on weekends, and there was maybe fifteen minutes until then. 

He could tell her - it would be so easy. For once, the silence was practically begging him to fill it. 

But though he’d had plenty of time to ponder the situation, Felix hadn’t come any closer to figuring out _what_ exactly he was trying to say.

_I like you._

_Don’t leave._

_Do you want to bang the professor?_

He snorted, shaking his head. Pathetic. He was utterly, terribly, _unimaginably_ -

A soft ping broke the silence.

“That’s me,” Byleth said, reaching for her phone. Her eyes flicked over the screen, her face bathed in its soft, blue glow, her green eyes turning almost silver. 

“Dorothea wants to meet tomorrow,” she announced. “She says Sylvain did something dumb again, and she just _has_ to share.” 

Felix snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“Do you know what it is?” 

He didn’t, but he wasn’t privy to all of his friend’s shenanigans. In fact, he pointedly ignored as much of the hijinks as he could.

He said as much to Byleth, and she laughed. The sound made Felix strangely… happy. Odd.

“I’ll just have to wait and see, then,” she said, tapping out a quick response before setting her phone aside again. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her hands. “I’m gonna miss that."

Felix perked up; this was the first she’d made mention of the end of the semester drawing near. Maybe she’d say something, give him an opening to finally open his stupid mouth and-

“Miss what?”

“Being able to just walk across campus and meet Dorothea for coffee. Or,” she said, flashing him a grin, “having all this space to myself on a Saturday night, without having to pay a primo gym membership. These are top-notch facilities, you know. Doesn’t hurt that I’ve got a pretty good sparring partner.”

A compliment - Byleth was complimenting him. It was wasted, all his thoughts attuned to what she’d said before, about how she was going to _miss_ this.

“You’re leaving, then?” His voice was low, unexpectedly intent, and he cleared his throat, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “When the semester’s over.” 

“I don’t want to,” she admitted, hefting her bag over her shoulder. She hooked a hand in the strap, fidgeting with a loose string. “I like it here. I’ve made _friends_ here.” A wry snort left her. “It sounds so stupid, but… I’d never had that before.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“No?” She shrugged. “It feels a little silly of me. I mean, I’ve always had Dad and his coaching staff, and they’re great, really. I’ve never been alone. But meeting everyone here, and getting to know you all… it’s made me realize there’s so much more out there.” 

Felix shifted, daring himself to look her in the eye. “You don’t have to leave,” he said. “You could… stay.” The amount of hope he heard in his own voice was despicable. Could she hear it too? 

“What would I do?” 

He didn’t have an answer for that, and so he didn’t give her one.

Byleth sighed. “Dad’s coming back to work in a few weeks. The university’s contract is with him, not me. I guess I could ask for a place on his staff, but that… I don’t know. Feels a little like nepotism to me.”

“There’s always the town.”

She laughed. “And what skills do I have, Felix? Can you imagine me as a barista, working in a coffee shop?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he snapped. 

“Then what _did_ you have in mind?”

“You could… train people.”

“Oh, come on-”

“Or you could coach,” he said, hanging on to the thought now that he’d voiced it. “There’s a school nearby.”

“With kids?” she interjected, frowning. “I’ve never worked with kids.”

“How hard can it be?”

“Have you _met_ kids?”

“They’re just tiny humans-”

“Tiny humans with _attitude_ and _jam hands_ -”

“What the fuck are jam hands?”

“They’re sticky, Felix. Kids are sticky. And there’s never a good reason why.”

Frustrated, he shoved off the wall he’d been leaning against, heading for the door. “Forget it,” he said. 

She was right - it was stupid, asinine for him to even suggest it. They didn’t hire just anyone to work with children; you had to have a resume for that, and a degree. He should’ve just kept his mouth shut. 

“Hey,” Byleth murmured, grabbing for his arm. Her palm was warm on his skin, calloused and rough like he knew his own were. “It’s not stupid.”

He said nothing, focusing instead on how her fingers curled around her wrist. They were small, not quite making it all the way around, but her grip was strong, fierce. She wasn’t going to let him go so easily.

“It almost seems like you don’t want me to leave.”

He blinked, surprised enough that his gaze drifted from where she had a hold of him to her face. It was blank, as always almost impossible to read, but a slight furrowing of her brow told him she was trying to work through something in her head. 

“You don’t,” she said slowly, testing the words. “You want me to stay.”

Now would be the time to say something - literally, the perfect time. He couldn’t have asked for a better opening-

“You want me to stay, so you’re throwing ideas out there to see if one of them makes sense.” 

“Yes.”

It was such a simple thing, and yet it took nearly all of his willpower to make the admittance. How could one little word cost him so much? She was staring at him, eyes narrowing as she came to some conclusion, and he couldn’t help but feel a little exposed. 

She moved a step closer, and had her hand on his arm not stopped him, he would’ve stepped away. There was a vulnerability in being this close to her, one he hadn’t quite figured out how to master. What was he supposed to do? She was warm, and this close, he could smell the dirt and grass stains on her clothes, the ointment she’d daubed on a scrape, something citrusy on her skin-

“Felix, I-”

“Let’s go, kids! Hurry it up!”

Felix jerked away, scowling as the form of Alois, the training center’s manager, approached them. He wore a grin, oblivious to what he’d interrupted, a set of keys jingling in his hands. 

“Place closes in five minutes, and I’ve got a wife to get home to!” 

“We were just leaving,” Byleth said quickly, flashing the man a smile. “Weren’t we, Felix?”

Her hand still wrapped tight around his wrist, she maneuvered the two of them outside, making small talk with Alois as he locked up the doors. Felix didn’t know how she did it; he’d always found the man insufferable, and besides, they had been in the middle of… something. Who cared to hear one of the man’s corny jokes at a time like this?

Finally, he bid them good night and headed off to his car, whistling as he went.

He _would_ be a whistler.

Byleth turned back to him, sighing. “Sorry about that,” she muttered.

“Why apologize?” he asked, frowning. 

“I had forgotten he was there, to be honest. I should’ve told him I’d lock up when we were done.” 

She let go of him, taking a step backwards. The loss of contact was like a physical blow, one that hit Felix surprisingly hard. If he reached out and took her hand, would she mind?

 _Stupid,_ he berated himself. 

He was no good at this; he’d always been better suited to holding weapons than intimate touches. With weapons, he was fluid, precise, knowing exactly what to do and where his body needed to be. With other people… he was clumsy. 

Byleth took a sudden breath, and Felix’s gaze darted upwards.

“Felix, I think we should continue this conversation,” she said, her words quick, almost rushed. 

That… had not been what he’d expected.

“Alright,” he replied.

And _that,_ it seemed, had not been what Byleth was expecting. “Yeah?” she asked, eyebrows raising. 

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said. “Very much so. And… you want this too, right? To talk about… this?”

Felix wanted everything she would give him. But that sounded like something like Sylvain would say, and so he merely nodded instead. 

“Good,” Byleth said. “I’m glad.” She hefted the bag on her shoulder again, moving the strap upwards a little so it wasn’t cutting into her shoulder. “My place?”

He’d never been to her place. She’d never invited, and it hadn’t seemed appropriate - not while she was teaching him. But classes had ended yesterday, and she technically wasn’t his professor any longer-

“Fine by me.”

She nodded. “I’ll text you the address. Monday night work for you?”

He had a final Tuesday morning, one he needed to study for-

“That works.”

Byleth beamed. 

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

* * *

“You’re going to her _apartment_?” 

For the tenth time that hour, Felix lamented that Sylvain had been in their room when he’d gotten back from training with Byleth. He’d thought his friend would be… out, doing whatever it was he got up to on Saturday nights. He’d been expecting to have the place to himself, giving him some time to process what had just happened. 

No such luck.

“Well, well, Felix - I didn’t think you had in you,” Sylvain said, smirking.

“We’re just going to talk.”

“That’s adorable.”

Felix glared. 

“But hey, make sure you bring protection, alright? Condoms are cool.”

“That’s not - we won’t -”

“No harm in being prepared.”

“I’m not going to fuck her,” Felix snapped. His face felt like it was on fire, and judging by Sylvain’s knowing look, the effect was undermining the heat in his words.

“I’m not saying you will.”

“We are going to _talk,_ and that’s _it._ ”

“Fine. What are you gonna talk about, then?”

That… well. 

He knew what he _wanted_ to say. But how did he say it without sounding like a complete idiot? That was the problem. 

In some ways, it would’ve been easier if he _just_ wanted to fuck Byleth; if this was purely a physical attraction, he could’ve just… flirted, gauged her interest, and acted accordingly. He had some experience with that, at least. But the more he’d thought about it over the past few days, the more he’d come to the conclusion that that wasn’t what this was. 

Sylvain had put a label on it, but those feelings - _I think you like her_ \- had been there for a while now, if he was going to admit it. Byleth made him feel comfortable; she made him feel like someone actually understood how he felt, without him having to explain it. She just - she got him. He had trouble connecting with people, but with Byleth, that bond had fallen into place before he’d even realized it had existed. 

She pushed him - she made him better. There weren’t many people who could hand his ass to him on a regular basis. Byleth made it look easy. But she didn’t rub it in his face - no. She’d be there, extending a hand to him, grinning, asking if he wanted to go again. 

How did he put all of _that_ into a few paltry words?

“Hey.” 

Felix looked up warily to find Sylvain peering at him over the back of his chair. 

“Just tell her how you feel. It doesn’t have to be fancy or pretty - all she needs is the truth.”

Easy for him to say. Sylvain was witty and glib and almost completely unflappable. 

Felix was coarse and blunt and often said the first thing that popped into his head.

“I got it!” Sylvain slapped a hand to his forehead. “Man, why didn’t I think of this before? You should give her a gift!”

“...a gift.”

“Yeah! You’re the one always saying that actions speak louder than words, right? So all you have to do is give her something she’d appreciate - show her that you care.” 

“Like what?”

“You know her better than me,” Sylvain replied. “What does she like?”

Running. Training. Coffee. Food. He _thought_ she was a fan of the college athletic teams - he could recall seeing her wear a few pegasus-knight themed t-shirts - but then again, that could just be because faculty got a discount on merchandise. 

“What about flowers?”

Felix balked. “I am _not_ buying her roses-”

“Nah, that’s not Byleth’s style. Jewelry?”

Did Byleth even wear any? Felix thought she had her ears pierced, but anything else would just get in the way during training.

“Okay, so nothing traditional here. You’ll have to think a little outside the box.”

Great. Felix’s specialty.

“When are you going to her place?”

“Monday.”

“Two days, then. Plenty of time to come up with something.”

This was stupid. This was _stupid,_ and he was going to mess this up and give Byleth something she didn’t want or need, and then he’d be back to square one all over again, and-

“You’re overthinking this.” 

Felix wasn’t an expert, but he really didn’t think that was the case.

“Look, people like getting gifts - even if they have no use for them. Because it shows someone thought enough of them to bother finding a present. It doesn’t have to be flowers or chocolate or anything fancy. Find something that would be meaningful to you guys and your relationship.”

The question that had been bothering Felix the most through this finally came to his lips. “But why?” 

Sylvain gave him a blank look. “Why?”

“Why am I giving her a gift?”

“I already told you, people like-”

“I heard you the first time,” Felix said hotly. He huffed out a frustrated breath. “She’ll ask what it’s for.”

“It’s for her to cherish for the rest of her days.”

“...I am _not_ saying that-”

“It’s to display on her mantelpiece like a piece of exquisite art-”

“No.”

“A physical manifestation of the feelings buried deep within your cold, black heart-”

“Forget it. I’m not doing this.”

“Okay, that last one was a joke-”

“Do you have any actual advice?” Felix demanded. “Or are you just full of hot air, as usual?”

Sylvain stared at him for a moment, considering. “Actual advice,” he repeated, thinking. 

Just when Felix thought he wasn’t going to say anything, Sylvain turned to face him fully, taking a deep breath. “Here’s my actual advice, Felix. You don’t have to bring her a gift. You don’t have to have a fancy speech prepared. But you have to have _something_ , or she’s not gonna know how you feel, she’s not gonna know you care, and she _will_ leave town. So... pick your poison. I'm not saying finding a gift for her would be simple, but sometimes it's easier to express your feelings with actions instead of words.”

Felix shifted where he sat, knowing Sylvain wasn’t… completely wrong.

“I think we both know that this isn’t just a little crush for you. So… find a way to tell her that.”

On paper, it was easy - just do it. Just _fucking_ do it. He just had to tell her that he liked her and didn't want her to go without having said that.

Then it would be Byleth's move. 

He groaned. Maybe Sylvain was right, and he _was_ overthinking this. He’d certainly had enough headaches over the past few days, trying to come up with some speech that both conveyed his feelings and yet didn't make him sound like a complete buffoon. But maybe that was the wrong approach. Maybe he was making things more complicated than they needed to be.

A gift might actually be a way to bridge that gap between what he felt and what he felt he could say.

At the very least, it gave him something to do, something he could take _action_ on, instead of sitting his room like a coward. 

He looked up, not surprised in the least to see that Sylvain was watching him like a hawk. “A gift, then?” he asked. 

Sylvain winked. “Now you're getting it." He finally turned back to his desk, pulling a stack of papers towards him. "I think I'm free tomorrow. We can head into town and pick something out." 

"No flowers." 

"No flowers."

"And no rings."

"I said _nothing_ about a ring-"

"What about... a dagger?"

" _That's_ where your mind went? Flowers, rings, _pointed weapons_?"

"What's wrong with a dagger? It's practical. She can use it in a fight."

"...I have a bad feeling about this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, the entire time writing this: do NOT insert a Mass Effect joke about reach and flexibility, you Garrus fangirl


	4. Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)

Dorothea was late.

Byleth didn’t mind, though. It had given her plenty of time to order two coffees and pick a table, and then she’d gone back up to counter for a box of cinnamon buns. A little overkill, perhaps, to buy six of them - but they were buy one, get one free, and what she and Dorothea didn’t eat, she’d gladly take home and save for tomorrow. She adored sweets, and this little cafe’s pastries were easily the best in town.

She’d have to remember not to offer any to Felix when he came over tomorrow night. It was precisely the sort of treat he’d wrinkle his nose at. 

“Professor!” 

Byleth looked up to see a windswept Dorothea bustle into her field of view, a contrite expression on her face. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she continued, plopping down into the seat across from Byleth. “Traffic was _terrible_ , and the buses were running late because of course they were, and - are those sticky buns?”

Byleth smirked. “Help yourself,” she said, pushing the box forward.

Dorothea took one, a happy little groan escaping her at the first bite. “Goddess, that’s delicious,” she said. 

“The perfect sugar-to-spice ratio,” Byleth agreed. 

“And you got me coffee as well?” Dorothea asked, smiling as she picked up the second, as yet untouched cup. “Professor, you’re spoiling me.”

“Well, I was promised a fantastic story…”

“Ah, yes!” Dorothea leaned forward. “So you know Edie, right.”

Byleth wasn’t sure there was a single person at Garreg Mach who _didn’t_ know of Edelgard von Hresvelg, but she nodded anyway.

“She’s in the same philosophy class as Sylvain and I,” Dorothea continued. “And her and Sylvain are friendly, you know - he’s friendly with everyone. But they don’t really interact all that much. She sits at the front, he sits at the back… that sort of thing. Well, the other day, they were paired up together for a little debating exercise.

“As you could probably guess, Edie took everything very seriously. She had her notes, she had graphs, she had diagrams, she was wearing this adorable little suit-”

“Let me guess - Sylvain had nothing.”

“ _Nothing,”_ Dorothea confirmed. “I don’t think he even bothered to comb his hair.”

“How bad was it?”

“That’s the thing,” Dorothea said. “He looked completely unprepared, but Sylvain _actually_ knew what he was talking about. Every point Edie made, he had a rebuttal - a good one, too. She can usually run in circles around the other people in our class, but Sylvain really threw her for a loop.” She shook her head, stirring some sugar into her coffee with a spoon. “I don’t know how he does it.”

“Eh, don’t think too hard on it. I think he mostly just flies by the seat of his pants. And caffeine - a _lot_ of caffeine.”

“So Edie took this all very well, you know - she loves a good opponent. They went back and forth for the entire hour, debating the finer points of whether the ends justify the means in warfare; it was interesting too! These things are normally pretty boring because, well, no one really cares about them save the professor, but not this time. We were all _captivated_. Well, all of us save Hubert, that is.”

Byleth snorted. Hubert von Vestra had made derision an art form, and she could only imagine the disdain he was capable of displaying in this particular situation. 

“He normally scowls at anyone who dares contradict Edie, but Professor, I swear, if looks could kill, Sylvain would be nothing more than a smear on the carpet.”

“And let me guess - Sylvain noticed and decided to push all his buttons.”

“He _winked_ , Professor. Right at him.”

Byleth whistled appreciatively. “This might sound weird, coming from me, but I’ll say one thing about Sylvain - he’s got balls.”

“Mmm,” Dorothea agreed, taking another bite of pastry, “Balls of _steel._ ”

“So what happened with the debate? Who won?”

“It was a draw. The class had to vote for a winner, but it split right down the middle. I think Edie was impressed by it, if a little exasperated with how little he’d prepared.”

“And Hubert?”

Dorothea giggled. “Oh, this is the best part. Sylvain went up to him after class, and I kid you not, asked him if he wanted to go on a date.”

“ _What?_ ”

“‘You were staring at me pretty hard, Vestra,’” Dorothea replied, dropping her voice down an octave in a surprisingly good imitation of Sylvain. “‘Like what you see? ‘Cause I’m free all night and I’d love to see what kind of magic we can get up to-‘“

Byleth burst out laughing. “He did not say that!”

“He _did.”_

“Oh, Goddess.”

“I swear, I have never seen Hubert look so outraged. Sylvain even slipped him his _number_ at the end. The paper had little red hearts all over it.”

Crying - she was crying at the thought of an apoplectic Hubert being forced to accept Sylvain’s digits. 

“What did he do?”

“Oh, what Hubie always does,” Dorothea replied, giggling. “He hemmed and he hawed, made a few not-so-empty threats, Sylvain blew him a kiss, and then Hubert accidentally exploded his backpack with a stray spell. Accidentally being the operative word, of course.”

Byleth shook her head. “Ridiculous,” she said. 

“Sylvain took it pretty well, I think. It wasn’t like he carried much in that thing anyways.”

“And what did your professor think of this?”

“Are you kidding? He was laughing his ass off. Almost like you that time a bird flew into the training grounds during class and Ashe thought it was chasing him around the track.”

Byleth smiled at the memory. Poor Ashe. The bird really had been irate, though she supposed she would’ve been as well if she’d accidentally gotten trapped inside a strange building. She hadn’t been able to tell if it had been chasing Ashe or just flying in his direction, but it had been _mad._ Dedue, surprisingly, had been the one to coax it towards the entrance and back outside. 

“I couldn’t help it,” she admitted. “I felt so bad, but it was just-”

“Oh, trust me, it was funny! Even Ashe would say so.” 

It was - and it was exactly the sort of thing she’d been talking about with Felix last night. 

_This_ was what she was going to miss most after the semester ended. Those dumb little moments in class that happened almost entirely by accident. The things she couldn’t have predicted, that she hadn’t been prepared for. Like when Raphael had ripped his pants from flexing too hard. Or the day Annette had brought cookies to class as a treat for finishing midterms and had somehow _lost_ them in the weight room. They were still finding chocolate chips scattered amongst the dumbbells.

The late night grading, one-on-one sessions with students frustrated with their own lack of progress, faculty meetings… those memories made all of the hardships she’d endured this semester worth it - more than, even.

And the students themselves -

She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d taken on her father’s class at the start of the term. Would they be… brats? Stuck-up? Unteachable, rude, disengaged? 

_They’re a good group,_ Jeralt had said. _A little overzealous at times, but good kids._ _Give ‘em a chance, you’ll see._

And they were - from Ingrid, eager to prove herself in the sparring ring but unwilling to play dirty to get there, to Sylvain, who swung wildly between trying too hard and not trying hard enough. Ashe, whose skittishness had morphed into a quiet sort of confidence before her very eyes, and Annette, whose cute, dainty demeanor hid a serious punch. Dimitri, Dedue, Mercedes… and the additional students she’d gained in Dorothea, Raphael, and Marianne, wanting to join after getting to see one of her classes in action. All of them had exceeded her greatest expectations; she couldn’t have asked for a better group of students.

And then there was Felix. 

“Something on your mind, Professor?”

Byleth blinked, drawn from her thoughts. 

“You just look… a little sad.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” she said quietly. Because that wasn’t the word, that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t feel sad. “But I do feel… a little wistful, maybe.”

“For what? Or who?”

Byleth shrugged. “All of you,” she admitted. “You’re friends as much as students to me, and I’m… going to miss you after the year ends. Little things like Ashe and the bird just remind me of that.”

Dorothea smiled. “Have you considered staying?”

“Once or twice.”

“I’m certain they could find a place for you, if you wanted it. The other professors love you, and I hear you’ve even managed to impress Seteth and Dean Rhea. _That_ is quite a feat.”

Byleth snorted. 

“It’s true!” 

“I’ll wait ‘til my performance reviews come out, thank you.”

Dorothea waved a hand. “You’re too hard on yourself. They’d keep you in a heartbeat if you asked, I’m certain of it.”

“And what about my dad? This is his job, not mine. I can’t take his place.”

“So they’d find you another position! Simple.” 

Byleth made a noncommittal noise. “We’ll see.” 

Dorothea sighed, finishing off her pastry. “Well, I hope you do figure something out and decide to stay - in the general area if not at the university.”

“Oh?”

“You’re my friend,” Dorothea said, smiling. “I can’t say I was expecting to find a friend in one of my professors - a lover, maybe, but not an honest to goodness _friend_ \- but… I’d miss you if you just disappeared on us, Byleth.” 

Byleth ducked her head at the rare mention of her given name, certain her cheeks were flushed. She wasn’t used to this - open displays of friendship, of affection. Jeralt, Goddess love him, had never been exactly… warm with her. And his coaching staff, the only family she’d ever known, weren’t much better. To hear Dorothea say such a thing so openly -

Well. It meant a lot. 

“And I know I’m not the only one who’d miss you, either.” Dorothea’s tone had changed from earnest to coy, and when Byleth looked up, there was a devious glint in her eyes. 

“What does that mean?” she demanded. 

“Oh, please. You know who I’m talking about.”

She… at the very least, had a _suspicion_ who Dorothea was talking about. A hunch. 

“ _Felix._ ” 

Byleth felt her breath catch in her throat. 

Yes. Him. 

“He trains with you every other day,” Dorothea went on, oblivious to Byleth’s sudden inability to breathe. “What in the world is he going to do without you?” 

“I’m sure he’ll manage,” she said finally. 

Fire. Her face was on _fire._

“Will you miss him?” Dorothea asked.

Byleth opened her mouth, but the words died on her tongue.

Of course she’d miss Felix. Competitive, ruthless, driven - in so many ways, he was just like her. She was certain it was why they worked so well as training partners. They pushed each other, because they understood each other. 

She’d developed relationships with all of her students, many of whom she was glad to call her friends. But at her core, she was a loner; she didn’t instinctively know how to interact with people the way Dorothea did, or how to charm people the way Sylvain did. It didn’t come naturally to her; she’d come a long way since her awkward younger years - made friends, had a few flings - but it still required a bit of effort on her part. 

But communicating was just... easier with Felix. Nothing felt forced, like she had to think about things before she spoke or acted. Maybe it was because he was a loner too - though more out of choice and less due to circumstance. She didn’t have to speak if she didn’t want to, and when she did, it didn’t have to be pretty. He just listened, and responded. Action and reaction, with none of the meaningless bits of conversation in between.

“He doesn’t want me to leave,” she murmured.

“He told you that?” 

Byleth nodded slowly, daring to look up at Dorothea for the first time in several long minutes. The other woman was leaning forward eagerly, her coffee cup balanced in her hands. “Not in so many words, but… yes,” she said. “He did.”

“And how did you respond?”

“We were… interrupted,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the memory of Alois barging into their conversation and telling them to scram. She liked the guy, she really did, but sometimes - oblivious. He was just oblivious. 

Dorothea looked crestfallen, so she hastily added, “But we’re meeting again tomorrow. So hopefully, I can tell him-”

Tell him what? 

“Go on,” Dorothea prompted.

“I don’t know,” Byleth said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair.

“Well, what do you want to say?” 

“I…” 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about it. If anything, the opposite was true. She’d thought about it altogether too much over the past few hours. That didn’t mean she was anywhere closer to a conclusion that she had been last night, when Felix had been staring at her with those molten eyes of his, looking like he wanted to-

“He means a lot to me.” She cleared her throat, trying to ignore what the mere _thought_ of Felix’s eyes had done to her. “And I think I mean a lot to him.”

“There’s a ‘but’ buried in there.”

There was.

“I’m his professor, Dorothea.”

“Was.”

“What?”

“You _were_ his professor. But classes ended Friday, and you aren’t giving a final, so - now you’re just another person to him.”

Was it that simple? Was it really? 

If living and breathing military tactics for the past twenty-three years of her life had taught her _anything_ , it was that things were never that simple. There was always a catch. 

This was no different.

...right?

“Goddess, the two of you are so similar.” Byleth looked up to find Dorothea watching her intently. “You really don’t see it, do you?” 

“See what?”

" _Professor-_ "

"What don't I see?" 

“Felix literally adores-”

A phone rang, cutting Dorothea off mid-sentence.

Byleth looked down, fully expecting it to be her friend's phone ringing insistently. But it was her - someone was calling _her_.

She frowned, looking down at the caller ID - no one called her. Ever. She actively discouraged it, asking people to text rather than try to get a hold of her the old-fashioned way. The only person who disobeyed that unspoken rule was-

“Dad.”

She shot Dorothea an apologetic look and answered the call. 

“Hey, kid, it’s me,” Jeralt said. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Why does something have to be wrong for me to call my only daughter?”

“Is something wrong?”

“...I wouldn’t say ‘wrong’, exactly-”

“Dad. What is it?”

A heavy sigh met her ears.

“We need to talk.”

"That sounds ominous."

"I need a favor, and I hate to ask, with all you've done for me over the semester, but I'm at a loss here, I really am, and-"

She exhaled softly, letting go of the sudden fear his call had provoked. The accident had only been three months ago, after all; she still remembered getting that phone call, hearing him apologize to her for all the things he'd never told her, telling her he wasn't sure if he'd make it-

But this wasn't that. He just needed her to do something.

"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Sorry - were you with someone?"

"I was just out for coffee, but I can leave-"

"Were you on a _date?"_

Dorothea's giggle told Byleth her friend could hear every word of this conversation.

"No, it wasn't a date," she snapped. "Look, I'll be there in ten. Bye." 

"Daddy issues?"

"Jeralt issues," Byleth corrected, sending Dorothea an apologetic look. "I'm sorry to cut this short."

"Don't worry about it," Dorothea said, waving a hand. "I should get back to writing anyways. Manuela will be less than impressed if I don't polish this paper up a bit."

"You still haven't finished that?"

"It will be finished when it's finished," Dorothea said primly. 

Byleth snorted, gathering up the leftover cinnamon buns and the rest of her things. "Just finish it before it's due."

"You know what might help is another one of those pastries-"

Dorothea made a grab for the box, but Byleth was too fast, whipping them out of her reach before she could finish the thought. 

"Not a chance, Arnault. Not a chance."


	5. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random world note: since this is a more modern take on Fodlan, noble "territories" have been morphed into states and provinces, but they're still named according to the family in charge. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! :)

Byleth’s apartment complex both was and wasn’t what Felix was expecting.

It was close to campus, nestled behind a little strip mall with a couple of fast food places and a coffee shop. The buildings were maybe ten years old, paint peeling off the wooden staircases that provided access to the second floors. A well-used kid’s playground sat nearby, the grass overgrown and weedy, with a couple of picnic tables and a barbecue off to the side. It wasn’t quite shabby, but this wasn’t exactly the nice part of town.

He’d half-expected her to live on campus. There was faculty housing - from what he understood, that was where her father lived. It was essentially a nicer version of the student dormitories, but it was free for any staff member, should they choose to use it. 

Instead she’d chosen to live… here. 

She’d told him once that she liked having something to come back to after a hard day’s work. He supposed he could understand that - she’d said they lived on the road a lot when she was a child, and that home had been a motel room more often than not. Having a place of her own, with furniture she’d picked out and decorations she’d selected, must be like a refuge, then. Maybe the location was as much a part of that as the atmosphere; maybe she'd needed a place away from the rest of her world. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, looking down at the screen. 

_ < Byleth > Are you here? _

_ < Felix > Yes. _

Her apartment was in the second building, on the second floor. He looked up, trying to find the right window - and found Byleth staring down at him. She grinned and gave him a little wave, motioning towards the front door. 

If he were forced to admit it, he was a little bit nervous. Earlier, he’d told Sylvain he wasn’t, and at the time, he hadn’t been, but now… when it came time to a fight, he wasn’t nervous because he knew how hard he’d practiced. It was the same way with tests - he knew how much he’d studied, how much of the material he knew, and so he generally had a reasonable expectation as for how things would go. 

This was something he hadn’t been able to prepare himself for; he didn’t know what to expect, and though he had a rough idea of what he wanted to try to say, who knew how it would actually go. He sure as hell didn’t. 

“Felix.”

Byleth was standing on her front porch now, leaning over the railing, an amused smile on her face. 

“You know you have to come up the stairs to come inside, right?” she teased, pointing to the rickety set of stairs to her left.

He scowled. “I’m coming,” he snapped, putting his phone back in his pocket.

She laughed at that. Were it anyone else, that reaction would have annoyed him. With her, it was strangely endearing. 

It was only after he’d clambered up the steps that he realized what she was wearing. The white tank top she was wearing was riding high on her stomach, and her black shorts were riding dangerously low on her hips. Together, they exposed a long stripe of skin on her toned midriff, and he found himself unable to look away.

She’d never worn anything like… like _that_ in class. It was probably discouraged as a professor; and while she’d worn shorts and t-shirts during their private training sessions, he’d been too focused on avoiding the sword or fist swinging in his direction to notice something like her _stomach._ But now it was there, its image forever burned into his memory, and he wanted nothing more than to lean down and-

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

He looked up, certain his face was betraying him, but Byleth didn’t call him on it.

“My final ran late,” he said.

“Did you drive here?” She turned, waving for him to follow her inside.

“I walked.” 

“That’s what I do too - seems like a waste of gas when it’s all of ten minutes away.” 

Byleth’s living room was small, most of the space taken up by a very well-used, comfortable looking couch and a television set perched on a coffee table. It seemed she wasn’t much for decoration; the walls were bare, for the most part, and an old shag rug underneath the sofa was the only other large item in the room. But every other surface, literally every other free space, was covered in plants - flowers, vines, grasses, moss. He’d not seen such variety outside of the campus greenhouse. 

It seemed Byleth was waiting for him to say something, shifting from one foot to the other as he took in her living space.

“It’s… you have a lot of plants.”

Dumb, stupid, _obvious_ -

She laughed. “I’m a little obsessed,” she replied. “Dad always said I was nuts trying to grow plants when we were living on the road. I was only able to keep a couple at a time. So the first thing I did after getting this place was go down to the garden supply store and go crazy.” 

“I see that.” 

“But plants are good for you, you know,” she added. “All that extra oxygen, and they keep the air clean, and plants make you happy-” She broke off, shrugging. “I just like plants.”

There was nothing wrong with that. Personally, Felix didn’t think he could keep a plant alive if he tried, but the greenery did give the space a certain… character that it would have lacked had there been nothing in the room but a few pieces of furniture. 

“This one is my favorite,” she said, pointing to a small potted plant high on a shelf. It had big white flowers and dark wavy leaves, the blossoms so large the rest of the plant seemed almost wilted in comparison. “It only blooms once a season, but when it does, it’s just so crazy, the flowers take over the plant, and - well, it looks like that.”

“Why does it only bloom once?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess it’s kind of like cherry trees - they bloom once, and it’s spectacular and pretty and they smell like heaven, and then all the flowers fall at once and they’re gone. You have to wait another year to see them again.”

Felix was familiar with cherry trees. His father had them planted all over their estate, painting the grounds a delicate shade of pink each spring. 

“They’re a metaphor.”

Byleth blinked. “A metaphor?”

“The cherry trees,” Felix said. “Life is short. It’s over before you realize it.”

“I’d not heard that before,” she murmured thoughtfully. 

“It’s just something my father told me-”

“It’s beautiful.”

Felix snapped his mouth shut. 

“I’d not thought of it like that before, but… I guess it’s true in a sense. They are a good metaphor for life.” She took a step closer, and then another, and Felix felt his breath catch in his throat. “You have to make the most of every opportunity, because you don’t know if you’ll get a second chance.” He could feel the heat from her body now, could count the individual strands of hair falling loose from her ponytail-

In one, deft motion, she reached behind him and shut the door that had been hanging open behind them. He exhaled sharply as she pivoted and walked to another room, cursing himself by being so affected by her mere presence, as if they hadn’t been as close or closer during every single close-quarters combat session they'd ever had.

“I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess in here,” Byleth said, motioning around her bedroom. 

Felix took a step forward, eyeing the piles of clothes and bottles of soap and shampoo strewn about the room. He frowned; Byleth didn’t strike him as a particularly messy person, so the complete disarray indicated that she-

“You’re leaving.”

Ice. His stomach had turned to a leaden ball of ice, weighing him down. Every thought in his head evaporated, the words he'd been rehearsing in his head for hours gone in an instant. 

She turned, wincing. “It’s only temporary.” 

“Why are you leaving?”

To his surprise, she reached out a hand and pulled him towards her, pushing him to sit down in the one bit of free space the bed had left to offer. He barely had time to register this, to think that he was sitting where she _slept_ , before she was giving him an explanation. 

“It’s Dad. He’s been doing some recruiting in his free time, and there’s a girl he wants to meet with to offer her a spot on the equestrian team. She’s one of his old students; he taught her once at this summer workshop he was offering in Leicester. But he still can’t drive for long periods of time without his back flaring up, and, well, she’s apparently top tier talent, so Dad wants to talk to her before she gets picked up by another university-”

“You’re going _recruiting_?”

She winced again. “Unfortunately, yes.”

He… supposed that was better than her leaving permanently. And now that he’d gotten a second look, she was just throwing things in a duffel bag and not something more permanent, like a suitcase or a moving box. 

The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was beginning to ease now, his panic abating.

“Have you ever recruited anyone?”

His tone must have sounded more accusatory than he meant it, for Byleth stood up tall, puffing her chest out a little. “I like to think I recruited Raphael, Dorothea, and Marianne,” she replied. “All it took was a few glances at our class, and they were wanting to join right up.”

“That’s not recruiting,” Felix disagreed.

“Then what would you call it?”

“Their combat instructor was _Hanneman_ -”

“So?”

“You are clearly the better teacher-”

“I am, huh?” She grinned, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Of course you are,” he snapped. “You’re the best this school has ever had.”

To his very great surprise, it was Byleth’s turn to blush. “That might be the first real compliment you’ve given me, Felix,” she said quietly. 

He blinked. He’d complimented her before - her technique, her form, her ability to single-handedly put him on his ass time and time again while they were sparring. 

“Not my abilities,” she amended, noticing his confusion, “but… me. That was the first time you praised _me._ ”

Felix didn’t know what to say to that. Her expression was soft, cheeks pink and lips turned up into a smile. She looked… delicate. Happy. He was so used to seeing her focused, eyes narrowed, jaw determined. The change was remarkable. 

She was beautiful.

A knock at the door jolted him from his reverie. 

Byleth shot him a sheepish look. “I ordered a pizza,” she admitted. “I haven’t eaten all day, and I knew you’d be coming over… let me go get that.”

She padded out of the room, leaving him alone amidst piles of shirts and pants. One stack looked suspiciously like underwear, brightly colored and lacy and-

Felix yanked his phone out of his pocket, forcing himself to stare down at the screen and not at Byleth’s undergarments. His hands were shaking as he unlocked the device, and he scowled. To think, the mere sight of a few pairs of _panties_ had him this off-balance - pathetic. 

But these weren’t just underwear. They were _Byleth’s_ underwear, and now that he knew what they looked like, it was all too easy to picture her _wearing_ them, to imagine her wearing them while he tore them off-

Felix stifled a groan, forcing the thought from his head. 

He had to find something else to occupy his thoughts. He flicked through his notifications, hoping to find something distracting.

He was in luck - Sylvain had texted him while he was talking to Byleth, wanting sordid details that didn’t exist, no doubt. Busybody.

_ < Sylvain > How goes it? _

_ < Sylvain > Are you two bumping uglies? Be safe, kids. _

_ < Sylvain > No text back - I’m taking that as a positive sign. _

Gritting his teeth, Felix typed back a quick response. 

< _Felix > Fuck you. _

_ < Felix > She’s leaving. _

Surprising no one, Sylvain texted him back immediately. 

_ < Sylvain > Leaving leaving? Like, for good? Aw, Felix. _

_ < Felix > No, for the next couple of days. _

_ < Sylvain > Why? _

_ < Felix > She’s doing some errand for her dad. _

_ < Sylvain > Oh. So she’s coming back? _

_ < Felix > Yes. _

_ < Sylvain > Well, that’s a good sign. Man, you about gave me a heart attack! Give me some warning next time, please. _

_ < Felix > She nearly gave _ me _a heart attack._

_ < Sylvain > DUDE _

_ < Sylvain > I have an idea. _

_ < Sylvain > You should go with her! _

_ < Felix > ...what? _

_ < Sylvain > YEAH, this is great! Just the two of you guys, alone on a road trip? Presh. And you can give her that gift you got her! _

_ < Sylvain > You haven’t given it to her yet, right? _

He hadn’t. It was still buried deep in the pocket of his jeans, as inconspicuous as he could make it. He’d been waiting for the right moment, but Byleth packing her bags had thrown him off. To be honest, he hadn’t even thought about it until Sylvain had mentioned it. 

_ < Sylvain > Offer to give her a ride - your car’s better than hers. _

That much was true. His father had practically forced one upon him when he’d finished high school, and he’d picked the most utilitarian one he could find, with none of the fancy bells and whistles that Sylvain’s bright red monstrosity possessed. But Byleth’s car was _trash,_ in the most literal sense of the word possible. It made his car look like it was fresh off the lot.

If he offered… well, he could think of worse excuses to suggest they spend the next few days together.

“I hope you’re hungry.”

Felix looked up just as Byleth walked back into the room, one very large pizza box in her hands.

She set it down on a bedside table, popping up the box with one hand and offering him a paper plate with another. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got everything,” she admitted. 

“Everything’s good,” he said, taking the plate.

She beamed, tearing off a slice and slapping it onto the plate in his hands before serving herself. 

“Here,” he said, clearing off a space beside him on the bed. 

“Oh, thanks,” she said, in between bites of food. “I’d really hoped to be packed by the time you got here. But I realized half-way through I’d be going north, and north means cold weather. So I had to get out my warmer clothes and start all over.” 

“It shouldn’t be too bad this time of year.”

She shook her head, swallowing down another bite. “Oh, no, you can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

She grinned at him. “You northerners always say that, and the weather is _always_ worse than I expect.” 

He snorted. “It isn't that cold in Leicester-”

“I think I nearly got frostbite last time.”

“ _Frostbite-_ ” He shook his head. “You’ll never survive in Fraldarius.”

“Oh? And when I am going to the state of Fraldarius?”

Felix blinked, caught in a trap of his own making. He flushed, hastily taking a bite of pizza to cover his tracks. “Whenever you want,” he muttered. “ _If_ you want.”

She laughed. “I’m only joking,” she teased, elbowing him. “But… I’d love to go, if you ever wanted to show me around.” 

He swallowed thickly, looking over to see if she was just ribbing him. But her face looked entirely sincere; she was being earnest. 

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, ducking her head. 

He huffed. “Well, if someone’s going to show you around, it might as well be someone who knows the place.”

“Good. I’d like it too.” She sighed. “But, it’ll have to wait until I go and meet Leonie. That’s her name - the recruit I have to meet.” She shook her head, reaching for another slice of pizza. “I’ll have to make sure my car’s up for both trips. She’s been making this weird noise when I turn the steering wheel lately, and honestly, I’m not sure it’s not the suspension wearing out.”

Felix blinked. 

Had she really just said that? Could this really be so easy? It was the perfect opportunity, the best one he was likely to get. 

If he believed in that kind of thing, he would’ve called it a stroke of luck.

“You should take my car.”

“What?” 

“It’s better than yours.”

“I - okay. We’ll take your car to Fraldarius.”

“You should take it to Leiceister.”

She shook her head. “I appreciate that, but I couldn’t.”

“You can.”

“Felix, really-”

“Your car is a piece of shit.”

“Hey, she is a nice, old lady-”

“She is garbage.”

Byleth deflated. “She is one step away from the junk pile.” She eyed Felix, uncertain. “But really? You’d let me borrow your car to go to Leiceister?”

“I’d go with you.”

Whatever she’d been expecting, it clearly hadn’t been that. “What?”

“I’ll go.” 

“Felix, I-”

The startled look on her face had Felix second-guessing himself, and he backpedaled fiercely. “Forget it,” he said quickly. “Just - take the car, at least. It’s safer.”

Why had he listened to Sylvain? Why had he thought this was a good idea? 

He’d pushed it, he’d gone too fast, and now Byleth was looking at him strangely, the soft, happy expression she’d worn earlier torn to shreds. He’d just been thinking about opportunities and the dumb cherry blossoms and life being short and fuck it, he'd just went for it for once-

Byleth put a hand on his arm. “I’d… company would be… nice, actually.”

He turned, his inner haranguing quieted. 

Her fingers curled, her thumb hitting the soft, inner side of his wrist. “Can you… I mean,” she paused, swallowing. “Do you have any other finals? Would this get in the way?”

“I have the last one tomorrow morning.”

She nodded slowly. “Then I guess… I… okay.” 

...okay?

A slow smile spread across her face. “Let’s go. It’ll give us more time to talk, anyways, about… whatever it is we need to talk about. Right now, I'll admit, I'm a little distracted.” When he didn’t respond, too busy processing that latest remark, she lifted an eyebrow, smile morphing into a smirk. “Unless you’re reneging already…?”

“No,” he snapped. “I’ll go. And we can… talk. Some.” He scowled. “A bit.” 

She laughed, giving his wrist a final squeeze. “Well, then, it’s settled. Pick me up after you’re finished with your final, and we’ll go to Leicester - together.” 

Together.

She stood, setting her plate aside and brushing her hands off with a paper towel. "For now though, I've got to finish packing. Want to help me?"

Without thinking, he nodded. 

"Good. Hand me that pile of t-shirts next to the thongs."

Felix nearly choked on his pizza. 


	6. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, for reading! :)

“So, rules of the road.”

Felix rolled his eyes, the fingers of one hand drumming against the steering wheel of his car in boredom. “I know how to drive,” he muttered into his phone.

“Not _those_ rules of the road - the rules about how to interact with your fellow carmates on a long drive.”

“Carmates? Is that a word?”

Sylvain was briefly quiet, the only sound coming from his end the clacking of keys on a keyboard. “Huh. It passes the spellcheck test. Guess so. Anyways - back to what I was saying. Rule number one - always share your snacks.”

“I don’t eat in my car.” 

It was impossible to do without getting crumbs everywhere, and if your food was anything resembling a hot meal, the entire car would smell like a french fry for ages. No thanks.

“Okay, yeah, maybe you don’t, but what if Byleth wants something?” Sylvain demanded. “You gonna tell her no?”

...probably not.

“That’s what I thought. Like I said, sharing is caring. She wants a couple of your chips, you give ‘em to her. She offers you a piece of candy, you take it.”

“I don’t like-”

“Yes, yes, I know - but it’s common courtesy. Just take the damn Twizzler.” 

“Fine. I’ll take the damn Twizzler.”

“Good! Rule number two - stick to comfortable topics of conversation. I probably don’t need to remind you of this, but you’re gonna be stuck with each other in a car for several hours. You start off with a joke about politics and it goes badly, you’re gonna have to deal with it the entire rest of the way.”

Felix doubted that would be an issue here - the two of them had already discussed just about every subject imaginable, and while he and Byleth didn’t always see eye to eye, they agreed on many contentious topics. Still, it was advice he’d probably follow; the last thing he wanted to do on this trip was stick his foot in his mouth.

“And rule number three - offer to split the costs of everything.”

Of the lot, that was the rule Felix found made the most sense. Byleth had already booked a hotel room, but he planned to pay for the gas and food they’d need. It seemed like an even trade. 

“Is that all?” he drawled, hoping Sylvain was done with his friendly tips. He hadn’t asked for them, but Sylvain had insisted they needed to be aired. It had been easier to go along with it.

“About the sleeping situations-”

Felix scowled. “Don’t.”

“You have to consider these things! Okay, is it one bed or two?”

Felix didn’t know - he hadn’t asked.

“If it’s two beds, no problem. If it’s one, you’d best prepare to get cozy.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“So Byleth can accidentally step on your face when she gets up in the middle of the night to piss?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“But what if it _does,_ Felix, and then you like, attack her something, mistaking her for an assailant of some kind-”

“That is _not-_ ”

“-going to happen, sure, sure. But you have to admit, you kind of have a track record with these things. Remember eighth grade?”

“That was _one_ time!”

“One very memorable time that you still haven’t lived down.”

“Dimitri dropped a book on my face!”

“Technically, it fell on your face when he bumped the nightstand-”

“Byleth is not going to _bump the nightstand_ and drop something on me,” he snapped. 

“It would be odd if it happened twice in your lifetime,” Sylvain agreed. “And speaking of things that have happened twice - did you bring those condoms I put in your bag?”

“You did _what?”_

“Oh, good, you didn’t find them and throw ‘em out!” 

Felix had just opened his mouth for a heated retort when he heard a tapping on the passenger window. He looked over to see Byleth had emerged from her apartment, a bright green duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She waved, motioning for him to unlock the door.

“I have to go,” Felix said flatly into his phone. 

“Ah, is Byleth there? Tell her I say hi!” 

Felix snorted, reaching over with his free hand to unlock Byleth’s door. “I’m hanging up now,” he announced.

“Don’t forget the rules! And if you do share a bed, no groping!”

“ _Sylvain-_ ”

“Love you, bye!”

He hung up just as Byleth clambered into the car, a wave of her citrus-scented soap washing over him as she moved to put her bag in the back seat. Her hair - it had to have been her hair. Still damp, it was curling in ringlets around her neck, a few pieces plastered to the skin. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, shooting him a smile. “Dad called at the last minute to make sure I knew where I was going. I’m not sure we _can_ get lost, since there’s just the one highway over the Bridge of Myrddin, but I printed out directions, just in case.” She held up a stack of papers as evidence.

“Let me see.”

She smoothed out the top sheet, pointing to a little red star in the center of the continent. “Here’s Garreg Mach,” she said. She drew her finger down a red line leading east. “And here’s the route we have to take.”

“Fairly straightforward.”

“That’s what I said!” She shook her head fondly. “The man has no faith in me, I swear.”

Felix began the process of backing out of his parking space, checking to make sure no idiots were about to run out behind his clearly moving vehicle. 

“Though to be fair, there was that time I got lost in the sewers beneath Enbarr.”

“What were you doing in the sewers?”

“Hunting for lost treasure.” Felix shot her a look and she shrugged. “Hey, I was ten and one of the guys on Dad’s coaching staff mentioned it at dinner - ‘the lost treasure of Enbarr’, ‘the relic of House Hresvelg’, that kind of thing.”

“House Hresvelg has their relic. They have it on display at all ceremonial events.”

“So Dad explained to me afterwards.”

“And getting lost in the sewers is-”

“Like something out of a nightmare, trust me. There’s so much junk in there that you wouldn’t expect. I never ventured down there again.”

“How does one even get down there? And how did you get out?”

Byleth blinked. “I climbed down a storm drain,” she said, as if this were obvious. “As for getting out… well, everything washes out of the pipes eventually. Dad found me in a ditch outside the city.”

Felix was beginning to understand why Jeralt wanted her to know where she was going before she left town. 

“How many other times have you gotten lost?” he asked, amused despite himself. 

“Well, I did get stuck in the monastery crypts a few months back, looking for the spare training equipment.”

“...Why would it be down there?”

“I thought Seteth might have stashed it somewhere unsavory-”

“In the _tombs_?”

“Hey, it’d keep me out.”

Felix snorted. Had she met some of his fellow students? He could think of at least a handful who wouldn’t be deterred in the slightest at the knowledge that spare practice weapons were stashed underground with the decaying bodies of their ancestors. He mentioned this, and Byleth demanded to know who would do such a thing. 

“Caspar, for one.”

“What? No.”

“He would,” Felix insisted. “Anything to do with a weapon, and Caspar’s there.” Plus he was desperate to prove himself; there was that.

“Hmm. Okay. Maybe. But that’s just one person. Who are these other adventurous souls?”

“Lindhardt would go just to get a chance to look around.”

“Fair.”

“And Mercedes-”

“No. _No way_.”

“You do know she loves ghost stories, right? She’d leap at the chance to visit the tombs, especially tombs of holy warriors.”

Byleth crossed her arms over her chest. “That… does make sense, now that you mention it,” she grumbled. She was quiet for a moment, allowing Felix to pull out onto the highway and merge into traffic seamlessly. When she spoke again, her tone had changed, shifting into something less begrudging and more curious. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Would you go searching for weapons underground?”

Felix considered. “That depends,” he replied. “How badly do I need a weapon?”

“Desperately.”

“Then yes.” He snorted. “Though I’d be stupid to have gotten myself into a situation where I desperately needed a weapon and didn’t have one.”

“You seem the type to always have one on you.”

“I do.”

She shifted, turning a little in the seat so she could face him. “Even now?” He could feel her eyes on him, flicking over his body to see where he might have concealed such a thing. 

“Of course.”

“I don’t see a weapon.” 

He couldn’t resist a smirk. “That’s the point.” 

Her gaze turned scrutinizing. “Take off your coat.”

He obliged as best as he could while driving, throwing the jacket in the back seat. It wouldn’t help her; it wasn’t as if he had a knife strapped to his chest, merely concealed by his outermost layer of clothing. A weapon like that wouldn’t exactly be easy to access in a fight. 

She seemed to deduce the same thing very quickly, huffing out a frustrated breath. “If it’s not there, and it’s not on your belt…”

“Give up?” 

There was a challenge in his voice. Byleth must have heard it, her green eyes flashing in determination. 

“Never.”

She fell silent after that, fully devoting herself to the task at hand. For once, Felix found he didn’t mind the attention. This was a contest, after all, and he was the defending team. With every minute that passed with her unable to locate the dagger - strapped at the small of his back, incidentally - his amusement grew. After a half hour like this had passed, he was almost _smiling,_ and at her fifth consecutive sigh, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Are you - are you _laughing_ at me?”

He ducked his head, a few strands of hair concealing his face. “Maybe.”

She sniffed, turning away from him. “I _will_ find it, Felix.”

“If you say so.”

“Just you wait.”

He had no doubts she’d find it eventually - the dagger wasn’t _that_ well-concealed, and she was nothing if not determined. But for the meantime, she seemed content to let it go, turning their conversation towards other matters as they drove through the countryside of the Adrestian Empire. They talked of everything and nothing, shifting topics as easily as breathing. 

It had been a while since they’d had the time to talk like this. With the end of the semester and exams, they’d had to cut a lot of their training sessions short. It was… nice to be able to talk like this again. Felix had never really been much of a talker, and Byleth still carried the conversation more often than not. But he was still surprised at just how much he’d _missed_ this.

They stopped for lunch shortly after passing over the Bridge of Myrddin. Byleth immediately fell in love - the decor was cactus-themed, with said cactuses covering every open surface in what was surely a health hazard. She spent almost as much time out of their booth as in it, inspecting every plant in the place. At one point, the owner came out to ask what she was doing; upon hearing her gush about her love for plants, he was much appeased. 

It was the sort of kitschy place Felix hated on principle, but even he had to admit the food was decent. And seeing Byleth so captivated by something… well. He didn’t mind seeing it.

From there, it was another couple of hours to the town Leonie Pinelli called home. They would have a few hours before they were supposed to meet up with the new recruit. Byleth’s plan was to check into their hotel in the meantime, giving them some time to clean up before they’d take Leonie out to dinner. 

Felix wasn’t sure he was supposed to go with her. He wasn’t part of the faculty, after all. But when he’d mentioned this, Byleth had insisted that his presence would be good, saying that he could answer any questions Leonie might have about what it was like to be a student at Garreg Mach. He didn’t know how positive his answers would be, but he couldn’t fault that logic. 

After that, it’d be back to the hotel for the night. 

_The hotel._

Byleth had fallen asleep after their meal, curling up in the passenger seat like a cat; any opportunity to make conversation with her was out. Nor did he particularly like listening to music as he drove. And so, inevitably, his thoughts were drawn back to their living situation for the next couple of days. 

He wasn’t… dreading it, per se. 

He’d stayed in hotels with classmates before on class trips, shared spaces with people he didn’t really know that well. He’d lived with Sylvain for years now, and spent more than just a handful of nights at Ingrid’s place. He’d also had flings, if not many serious relationships; he knew how to share a space with another person. 

But Byleth was… different. He cared for her, much as the thought of actually saying that aloud made him want to vomit. She wasn’t just a friend, and she wasn’t just a fling.

He didn’t want to screw this up. 

He wasn’t sure exactly _how_ he could potentially screw this up, but Goddess knew the universe had an annoying habit of finding a way. 

Felix spent the rest of the car trip brooding, trying and failing to convince himself that nothing was going to go wrong. Byleth remained dead to the world, and even his final attempt at distracting himself - talk radio - fell flat when he discovered that there was precisely one radio station out here with a strong enough signal for his radio to pick up - Leicester folk music. 

He’d rather listen to his father going on and on about his _responsibilities to the Kingdom_ than that garbage, and that was saying something. 

And so he suffered in silence, lips drawn into a thin line as he contemplated all of the ways this trip could go terribly, horribly wrong. 

Byleth woke up just as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. She stretched, looking more than a little bewildered. “How long was I out for?” she asked, her voice still scratchy with sleep.

“A few hours.” 

“Damn, really?” She rubbed at her face. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to conk out like that.”

“It’s fine.”

Byleth peered at him rather blearily. “Are you alright?”

He wasn’t - the hotel was right there, and he was more than a little disturbed at the sheer number of cars in the parking lot. How many people could possibly be staying in a town this size? And for what reason? There wasn't exactly a lot to do here if the piece of town they'd driven through was anything to go on - he'd seen exactly two fast food places, a library, and a bowling alley. 

“Man, it’s busy,” Byleth said, echoing his thoughts. “This was the only hotel in town, you know. So I guess it makes sense, but still. That’s a _lot_ of people.”

No kidding.

Felix pulled into a spot by the front entrance, and Byleth hopped out. “I’ll go check in,” she said, already on her way to the door. He nodded absently, glancing about to try and make sense of this crowd of people. 

There were… a lot of balloons. And ribbons. More than a few people in fancy clothing. 

He blinked, putting things together. Graduation ceremonies, perhaps? It was that time of year. But in a town this size, there could only be one school - maybe two, if the population had grown recently. He remembered his own high school graduation; his father and uncle had been the only two in attendance for him, and the latter had likely only come out of familial obligation. 

Was it… normal to have five people per kid? 

Or _ten?_

One group looked suspiciously like an entire extended family, a close count revealing no less than twenty-seven people crowded around one nervous-looking kid in a black gown. 

He snorted, shaking his head. Ridiculous.

Byleth returned a few moments later, a set of card keys clutched in one of her hands. She was frowning as she opened the door, and stumbled a bit as she took a seat. 

Felix quirked an eyebrow at this abrupt shift in body language. “Something wrong?”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Well, the good news is we’re all checked in,” she announced, holding up the cards. 

If there was good news, that meant there was also bad news. Panic filled him, then, sudden and unwanted.

“The bad news,” Byleth continued, “is that they messed up my reservation, and with everything else going on in town - there’s a high school graduation tonight, apparently - they only had one room available, and-”

Was this really happening? It was like something out of a bad romance novel, one of those trashy things Ingrid was too embarrassed to admit she secretly enjoyed. Had Sylvain somehow spoken it into existence by daring to voice the possibility aloud? 

...that son of a bitch. 

Byleth offered him a tiny, hesitant smile, as if apologizing for the words she was about to speak. “There’s only one bed.” 

Felix’s mind went completely blank, short-circuiting at the very thought. The panic from earlier ebbed, replaced with something dangerously similar to heat, to _want -_ only that was just as bad, because _fuck,_ this was not how things were supposed to happen. 

“Felix?”

He blinked, drawn from his thoughts. 

“I’m so sorry,” Byleth said. “I really did book two beds. I… I can sleep on the floor. Or in the car-”

“No,” he said sharply. Her mouth snapped shut, and he cursed himself for his knee-jerk response. “No,” he tried again. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”

Still, she hesitated. “Felix-”

“It's fine."

"We could - we could share it."

Felix couldn't help it - he stared, trying not to let the heat running through him at the mere _suggestion_ show on his face. Sharing a bed - being close enough to reach out and touch her, to feel the heat coming off her body. What if one of them rolled over, or moved in their sleep? He knew his own sleeping habits well enough, but what if Byleth was a _cuddler_ -

"Felix?"

He blinked, drawn from his thoughts. "It's... the obvious solution," he said finally, scowling as his voice cracked on the last word.

"Are you sure? I mean, I'm okay with it, if you're okay with it-"

"It’s fine."

"It's a king-size bed, at least, so plenty of room-"

" _Byleth-_ "

"Yes?"

"I said it's fine."

Something about his tone convinced her; after a few more moments' hesitation, she nodded, grabbing for her bag. "Okay, then," she said. "We'll share it."

Felix nodded, allowing himself a moment as Byleth got out of the car. 

He could do this. 

He was a fucking adult, and he could _do_ this. Sylvain had fucking _jinxed_ him, but he could do this. He stepped out of the car, popping the trunk so he could get the small bag of belongings he'd brought along with him. 

One thing, though, was for damn certain - 

Felix was, most assuredly, _not_ fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was super obvious where this was going, right? lol


	7. Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Truly, Byleth couldn’t - this whole situation wasn’t just highly unlikely. She’d thought crap like this only happened in bad rom-coms. The  _ first _ time she and Felix had some time to themselves - well and truly, just the two of them - to figure out… whatever it was they were leaving unspoken, and  _ this  _ had to happen.

It was just totally,  _ totally _ fucked.

She had immediately locked herself in the bathroom upon getting access to their hotel room. Then she’d crawled into the tub and drawn the shower curtains around her body, as if the two extra sheets of fabric would prevent Felix from hearing as she frantically called the only person with advice she trusted in this situation. 

“What the fuck,” she whispered, clutching her phone to her ear, “Dorothea,  _ what the fuck _ ?!”

“Okay, let’s just think this through for a minute.” Dorothea’s voice was smooth and calm as she went into crisis containment mode. It was a tone Byleth had often heard her adopt around Caspar when he’d gotten into a fight that he couldn’t finish, and with Bernadetta when she’d panicked and locked herself in her room for hours on end. She’d never expected to hear it used on  _ her. _ “The bed is king-sized, you said?”

“Yes. I think.” She shook her head. “That’s what the guy at the front desk said, at least.”

“Good! You have plenty of room, at least. Now, if you two were having to share a _ twin _ bed, that would be something.”

“But what if I flip over or something in the middle of the night?” 

“And do what, exactly? Touch him?” Dorothea giggled. “Professor, haven’t we already established that the both of you would probably enjoy that?”

“That is not helpful.”

“Oh, I was only teasing. But really - would it be that big of a deal? These things happen when you share a bed with someone.”

“I know that, but - you know Felix doesn’t like to be touched. I don’t want to… cross a line.”

She was already a little concerned with how much she’d been touching him without a second thought of late. Grabbing his wrist, dragging him from the training hall… with her other students, she didn't worry about giving them a pat on the back or shaking their hand. But Felix was notoriously reticent to initiate any kind of physical contact outside of the sparring ring. He’d not mentioned any discomfort so far, but she didn’t want to push it. 

“I think he can realize what’s an accident and what’s not,” Dorothea pointed out. “And he can hardly blame you for something you do while you’re unconscious.”

Byleth shook her head, frustrated. 

“How about this - with a bed that large, there’s bound to be a couple of pillows you don’t actually need. Put a few of them between you. That way, if you roll over, you’ll hit a pillow instead of Felix.”

That… could work. Hotels always gave you an obscene amount of pillows. 

Byleth breathed out a heavy sigh, letting herself relax a little for the first time since she’d checked into the hotel. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she asked, frowning.

Dorothea giggled. “Because you’re panicking,” she replied. 

Byleth scowled, but she couldn’t deny it - not with any shred of credulity. “Panicking is… a strong word.”

“So, now that we have that sorted out,” Dorothea continued, ignoring her petulance, “what are you going to be  _ wearing _ to bed?”

“Um, a t-shirt? And shorts?”

Dorothea sighed. “Of course you are.”

“Why?”

“You don’t have anything a little more… sexy?”

“I mean I brought a thong to wear with my dress at dinner, if that’s what you mean.”

“And I suppose it’s too much to ask you to wear that to bed?”

Yes, it was, because thongs were incredibly uncomfortable and she’d yet to meet one that didn’t ride up her ass like no one’s business. She wasn’t about to wear that to bed and risk Felix seeing her picking  _ wedgies _ . 

_ Very _ sexy.

She must have said this last bit aloud, for Dorothea laughed. “I suppose it is, when you put it that way,” she admitted. 

“Besides, Felix doesn’t seem the type to like lingerie.”

That, Dorothea didn’t seem to agree with. “Mmm, I wouldn’t say that. It’s not about the lingerie itself - it’s about who’s  _ wearing  _ the lingerie. I think you’d find he would get very interested, very quickly with the right incentive - that incentive being you, to be clear.”

Byleth wasn’t sure. He’d hardly given her clothes a second glance when he had helped her pack her bags, and her underwear had been on full display then. He’d seemed entirely uninterested. 

Dorothea only chuckled knowingly when she brought this up. “Don’t you think that might have been on purpose? I mean you can’t see someone’s underwear without imagining them wearing them. He probably pretended he wasn’t interested so you wouldn’t think he was being weird.” 

She… hadn’t thought of that. But it made a certain kind of sense.

Would she have found it weird? 

_ No,  _ she thought, grateful Dorothea couldn’t see the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks. If anything, the thought of Felix imagining her in just her undergarments was a little thrilling. 

Unbidden, the image of how he’d looked at her in the car resurfaced - when she’d suggested they share the bed. He’d stared, russet eyes gone near black with - with  _ something _ that had made her toes curl in her shoes. She’d never seen him look at her that way before, his gaze that predatory, that heated, that  _ wanton.  _ If he were to look at her like that again… 

“So what does Felix think of all this?” 

Byleth blinked, forcing her thoughts back to the subject at hand.. “Ah… he didn’t say much.”

“But he didn’t stomp off in a huff?”

“What? No. He wanted to sleep on the floor at first but agreed sharing the bed was more practical.”

_ It’s the obvious solution. _

His voice, mid-range, had gone lower as he’d said that, soft. Goddess, it had been pure sex. She could just imagine what he’d sound like during the actual act, murmuring against her neck, against her mouth, from between her legs-

_ Fuck.  _

She pressed a hand to her face, hoping to cool herself off a bit, and keyed back in to what her friend was saying.

“Well, given that this is  _ Felix _ we’re talking about, that makes it sound like he’s downright open to the idea. You might as well take some comfort in that - it’s a good sign.” 

“You think so?”

“He certainly wouldn’t have agreed to sleep in that bed with just anyone.”

Byleth snorted. “You have me there.”

“He likes you, Professor - he really does.” 

She couldn’t help it - she smiled at the assessment, easing herself out of the tight ball she’d drawn herself into in the bathtub. “I think you might be right,” she admitted.

“ _ Might  _ be?” Dorothea made an affronted noise. “I’m an expert at this sort of thing.”

“You know, Sylvain says the same thing-”

“Oh, Goddess,” Dorothea scoffed. “Please don’t compare me to him. Sylvain thinks he knows, but he’s got no  _ idea _ the sort of craft I possess.”

Byleth laughed. “You make it sound like this is all a game.”

“An  _ opera, _ Professor. An opera.”

She made her good-byes a few minutes later, thanking Dorothea profusely for taking the time to talk to her. The other waved it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but Byleth would have to remember to do something extra nice for her friend when they got back to Garreg Mach. A day trip to one of the local wineries, perhaps, or just an afternoon spent window-shopping for clothes neither of them could afford. It was the very least she could do to show her appreciation. 

For now, though, she needed to get ready for the evening. 

She’d brought a dress - one of only two she owned - and the sole pair of pumps she’d found that didn’t make her want to cut off her feet halfway through an event. Both were probably squished at the bottom of her duffel bag, and she was already dreading what sort of wrinkles the dress had probably accumulated - she’d have to see about fixing that. Perhaps the hotel room had an iron she could use? 

She stood, checking her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were still a little flushed, and her clothes were rumpled from her nap in the car. But she didn’t  _ think _ she looked like she’d just had a minor meltdown in a bathtub, and that was the goal. 

Satisfied, she hopped out and reached for the door handle - and nearly walked straight into Felix.

Byleth froze, caught unprepared. “Sorry,” she managed. “Did you, ah, need the bathroom?”

Felix took a step back, graceful as ever. “Is everything alright?” he asked. “You were in there… a while.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, sidestepping him. “I had to make a call.” She held up her phone, hoping the excuse wasn’t too flimsy. 

He eyed her curiously. “Right.”

His eyes were dark again - heavy with intent. At his side, his free hand was clenched into a fist, and his jaw kept working as if there was something else he wanted to say. Byleth found that she was rooted to the spot, unable to bring herself to keep moving away from him, desperate to know what he might do next. 

Goddess, she wanted him to kiss her. 

The thought hit her hard, like a ton of bricks, and she swallowed to ease her suddenly dry throat. How had she missed this - this  _ energy _ between them, for all of those weeks? Had she passed it off as something else, convinced herself she didn't feel this fire in her veins? Her skin felt two sizes too small, and all he was doing was  _ looking _ at her. 

It was too much too fast; she needed a distraction.

Her eyes flicked to the bed, all made up and pristine, their bags lined up neatly at either side. She frowned; she didn’t even remember putting them there, in her haste. Felix had to have brought them inside; he’d put hers on the side next to the bedside table, his on the side closest to the wall.  _ Typical, _ she thought - he would want to be closest to the room’s only entrance. 

It was also... smaller than she’d expected. 

Much smaller. Calling it king-sized had been  _ extremely _ generous. 

She wasn’t sure the pillow trick would work after all.

Felix cleared his throat, and when Byleth flicked her gaze back to him, she was surprised to see a slight flush staining his cheeks, his eyes focused intently on a spot on the floor.    


“I need to shower,” he announced. “Do you need anything in the bathroom?”

She shook her head mutely, recognizing the look of someone who needed an out. Felix scattered like a startled deer, almost slamming the door between them closed in his haste to get away.

Byleth let out a shaky breath, trying to make her traitorous heart to slow the  _ fuck _ down. “Goddess,” she breathed. “This is a mess.”

That was, perhaps, an understatement. 

It was also something Byleth didn’t really have time to contemplate. She had less than an hour now to get ready, and then they needed to leave in order to meet Leonie at the restaurant. 

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she grabbed her bag and upended its contents on the bed so she could rifle through the garments for her dress. The black, stretchy fabric wasn’t hard to find among her neon workout clothes; she snatched it up, letting it unfold to see the damage. She grimaced in distaste at the sight. Just as she'd suspected, the journey hadn’t been kind; in its current state, it looked more akin to a potato sack. 

Luckily, a quick search through the closet turned up both an iron and its requisite board, and she was able to press most of the wrinkles away. Not bothering to let it cool down, she shucked off her car clothes and shimmied into the dress, adjusting it until it sat just right on her frame. 

She glanced at the mirror, smoothing down the single remaining wrinkle that had resisted the iron. She had certainly looked better. But it also wasn’t half-bad, if she did say so herself. Not bad at all, considering it had been wadded up into a ball next to her toiletries ten minutes ago.

Satisfied, she padded back over to where her things lay, grabbing for her pumps. There was no grace to her movements as she shoved her feet into them, and even less grace as she ripped her hair free from its tie and dragged a brush through the tangles. She wished she’d thought to bring her straightener; there was a giant crease in the back from where she’d had it pulled back, one that wasn’t going to go away no matter how much she brushed it. 

Back into a ponytail it was, then. Still, she tried to make it look a little more elegant, artfully arranging a few pieces around her face and smoothing back stray strands. 

The makeup she chose was fairly plain and neutral - a quick coat of mascara, a swipe of sheer pink blush to her cheeks and some gloss to her lips. This was an official meeting between an employee of Garreg Mach University - however temporary she might have been - and a future student. She wanted to look professional, not like she was going on a date. 

And, if she were being brutally honest, this was about the extent of her abilities with cosmetics despite Dorothea's best attempts at teaching her.

Finished with her primping, she took a step back to survey her finished appearance in the mirror hanging above the hotel television. She was no great beauty, but she’d pass for the night. Her hair and eyes, which she’d always thought were two of her better features, stood in stark contrast to the darkness of her dress, and the blush gave her a rosy glow she normally only attained after exercising. 

She’d take it.

“You changed.”

Byleth nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling to face Felix. He was staring at her again, his dark hair falling in damp waves around his face. She shouldn’t have been so surprised - he’d always been light on his feet, which made him very,  _ very _ good at sneaking around. But her heart was in her throat all the same, especially once she noticed how he was drinking in her appearance.

“I did,” she agreed. “Do you… do you like it?”

His eyes widened, and she feared she’d made a mistake in asking. Admitting he liked how she looked in a dress was dangerously close to admitting to some sort of  _ feelings, _ and that was something Felix Fraldarius did  _ not _ do-

“Yes.”

If the question had startled him, his answer startled her. She’d been expecting a deflection, but this was - well, she couldn’t really interpret this any other way. 

“Although,” he added, tilting his head to the side. “You can’t hide a weapon in a skirt that tight.”

Just like that, the tension broke, the easy camaraderie they’d shared this afternoon falling back into place. Byleth almost sighed in relief, but she managed to hold it in at the last second. As it was, she laughed instead, a grin spreading across her face. Felix relaxed a little at the sound of it. 

“I suppose I can’t,” she admitted. “Not that I should be taking knives to dinner anyways.”

Felix made a contemplative noise. “That depends.”

Byleth snorted. “Are you suggesting I might need to defend myself during the soup course?”

“I was  _ suggesting _ you might need something sharper than a dull steak knife to cut your meat.”

“I doubt they’d take too kindly to me pulling out a  _ dagger _ in a room full of people-”

Felix shrugged. “It wouldn’t bother me.”

Byleth sighed, but not without affection. “Of course it wouldn’t."

* * *

Dinner had gone well. 

Leonie had been very interested in the scholarship they were prepared to offer her, and she as much as admitted to Byleth that being coached by Jeralt Eisner was a bigger prize than any of the other schools recruiting her could give. 

“It sounds stupid,” she had said, leaning forward earnestly, “But Jeralt is more than just some guy who coached me at sports camp one summer. He changed my life. If signing with him and Garreg Mach means I can somehow pay him back for all that he did for me… consider me recruited.”

Felix had made a noise at that, and Byleth had had to pinch him under the table - which he’d promptly ignored. Luckily, Leonie hadn’t seemed to notice. 

She’d handed Leonie the scholarship offer over dessert, letting her flick through the papers detailing the amount of the award and its stipulations while she finished off a spectacular piece of chocolate cake. Felix had abstained, staring at the cake as if he found its mere presence offensive. 

Byleth hadn’t minded - it had meant she didn’t have to share.

Leonie had wanted to sign the papers then and there, but Byleth encouraged her to take them home and think things over. Assuming she still wanted to formally commit tomorrow, they would swing by her home for an official signing, and she could sign them then. It was the standard procedure for these sort of things, her father had told her, and it had a way of weeding out the more wishy-washy recruits who might be using one potential scholarship as leverage for another.

Byleth definitely did not get that vibe from Leonie. She had a feeling they would be visiting her tomorrow decked out in all sorts of Garreg Mach gear, with more swag to hand off to Leonie as they posed for what she was sure would be a terrible photograph. 

She wasn’t looking forward to it. But it meant they’d succeeded at doing what Jeralt had asked, and that was good enough for her. 

It was late when they got back to the hotel, and Felix immediately excused himself to go get in a quick run. Byleth might’ve joined him if she hadn’t been wearing heels all night. As it was, she gratefully fell into bed as soon as she’d removed her makeup and changed into pajamas, snuggling up into the comforter with a sigh of contentment.

She’d arranged the pillows into a little nest of sorts, with two running the length of the bed and one each for her and Felix. Given the bed’s size (a queen, it was  _ definitely _ a queen, and that clerk had upsold the  _ shit _ out of this room), she’d still be able to reach over and touch him. But hopefully she wouldn’t get that far, nestled as she was into her little cocoon. She’d even turned down the thermostat to make sure she was cold, so she’d stayed burrowed up in her blankets.

And if she still somehow sought him out in the middle of the night...

Well.

They’d handle that when they got there.  _ If _ either of them were even awake - Byleth hadn’t realized it before, but she was so  _ tired _ . The long drive followed by what had felt like an even longer dinner had worn her out, and though Felix had only been gone fifteen minutes, it felt like ages had passed since she’d seen him last. 

Where was he even going to run? It had been starting to rain when they’d pulled into the parking lot. 

Maybe the hotel had a gym, and he’d gone to run on the treadmill.

Felix  _ hated _ treadmills. 

There was no air circulation, and it shortened his stride, and the biggest joy in running was the  _ competition _ , in  _ beating _ people around the track or across the finish line - you didn’t get that if you were running in place like a hamster in a wheel. 

His words, not hers. 

Still, it wasn’t necessarily without its merits. The lack of air flow meant that running on a treadmill often felt hotter than running in the open. And when you were hot…

You took off your shirt.

She’d never seen Felix without his shirt on. Even on the hottest days of the semester, he'd never been quite that uninhibited. 

But her mind, already half-asleep, and her body, sated with chocolate cake and soft, warm sheets and the slightest hint of whatever it was that made Felix smell so good wafting up from his bags, were more than happy to team up to create an altogether  _ lovely _ mental image for her as she drifted off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY working up towards that E rating, I promise we'll get there lmao


	8. Felix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just me flying by the seat of my pants here lmao so if you're still here and still reading, thank you! I appreciate every kudo / comment you all have given :)

It was late when Felix got back from his run.

A large part of him would insist that this was because he’d decided to do a longer, six-mile loop around the city to help work off the rather sumptuous dinner they’d had. A smaller, slightly more realistic and much more cynical part of him would admit that he’d taken that particular path because he was attempting to put off the inevitable. 

That part of him was shaking its head, sneering, calling him a coward. Much as he tried to shove it down, out of his thoughts, its presence remained. 

He bent forward, moving to stretch his hamstrings, letting his wet hair slide down into his face. Sylvain would tell him he was being stupid; he’d sigh and cross his arms and put on that “Oh, Felix” expression he was so fond of wearing. 

Felix  _ hated _ that look. 

Mostly because a good percentage of the time Sylvain affected it, he ended up being  _ right -  _ not that Felix would ever admit this aloud. It would go straight to his friend’s head, and there’d be no living with him then. But he couldn’t deny that when it came to these sort of social situations, Sylvain was pretty good at calling him on his bullshit. He certainly wouldn't be standing out in the rain, hesitating, when he had a perfectly good bed waiting for him inside. 

He stood, moving on to stretch his calves. It was still raining, though it had lessened from a downpour to a steady drizzle. His clothes were soaked through, clinging to his arms and legs. It had been nice while he was actually running. Now that he’d stopped, and his body temperature was starting to return to normal, they were just cold and scratchy and irritating. 

He should go inside - take another hot shower and then climb into bed. If he was lucky, Byleth would already be asleep. She’d said she was going straight to bed, after all, and she’d been visibly tired when he’d left her. He wouldn’t have to say anything. If he could just manage to be quiet and not wake her, he could slip into his side of the bed, turn over so he wasn’t facing her, and then try to get some sleep. 

If he wasn’t lucky, he’d -

He didn’t know what he’d do.

He scowled, as much at himself as at anything. This was stupid -  _ he _ was being stupid. It wasn’t as if he’d never shared a bed with a woman before. He knew his sleeping habits were nothing to be ashamed about; Sylvain had once told him he slept like something stuffed in a sarcophagus, but  _ what was wrong with that, _ really? It meant he didn’t flail about or get all twisted in the sheets. He was confident, then, that he could share a bed with Byleth for two nights and not have anything untoward happen.

Unless it came from her. 

He couldn’t speak for Byleth; what if  _ she _ rolled over in the night and latched on to him? He was a light enough sleeper that he’d probably wake up. But what would he do? Push her away? Attempt to extricate himself without waking her up? 

...lay there and take it? 

This was ridiculous. 

What did Byleth think of him, he wondered? She had to know he was stalling. He wasn’t that good at hiding what he felt, and she wasn’t an idiot. He knew he hadn’t fooled her when he’d muttered something about getting in a workout before he went to bed. Still, she’d let him run off into the night with nothing more than a “Watch out for cars” thrown out the door behind him. Good advice - but not the advice he really needed right now, if he was being honest. 

What he  _ needed _ was someone to tell him he was being dumb, someone to give him the little shove that would get him off his ass and moving in a direction he already wanted to go. Ingrid was good at that - she didn’t wheedle like Sylvain. She wouldn’t try to just talk some sense into him. She’d pick him up, dust him off, and, most importantly, she wouldn’t hesitate to call him a fucking idiot.

Minus the fucking. Ingrid’s swear jar had a much tighter lid than his. 

Having stretched every possible muscle he could, Felix finally stepped forward and out of the rain as he passed underneath the hotel entrance’s awning. He dripped water as he moved, his shoes making a disgusting squelching noise each time he took a step. He grimaced at that discovery, trying to wring some of the water out of his shirt and hair before he got inside the lobby. 

The concierge shot him a distasteful look as he wiped his shoes on the mat. “Forget your umbrella?” he asked, sneering.

Felix shot him a glare that shut him right up. 

The hallways were nearly empty at this hour, most people having already retired to their rooms for the night. He passed door after door in silence, scowl deepening every time his shoes made a particularly big squeak. 

He took them off entirely once he’d turned into the small section of hallway that housed his and Byleth’s room, and not just because of the noise. He’d been running long enough to know that wet, used running shoes smelled rank once dry; they’d spend the night by the door, and then he’d chuck them in the trunk of his car where they could stink in peace. The same would go for his clothes, once he’d gotten out of them; they were in a better state than the shoes, but not by much.

Slipping the key card Byleth had given him earlier out of a pocket, he unlocked the door with as little noise as possible, slipping through the crack without opening it too wide. He shut it with an equal amount of care, holding his breath to see if he’d woken Byleth.

Five seconds passed.

Ten.

He exhaled a silent sigh of relief when there was no sign she’d heard him, setting down his shoes and heading for the bathroom to get cleaned up. He waited until after he’d closed the door before fumbling around for the light. The switch was right by the mirror, throwing his face in stark relief when flipped it.

Goddess, he looked terrible. 

He scowled at his reflection, staring back at him like a sodden, angry cat. His hair was a rat’s nest atop his head, and his skin looked waxy, pallid. 

Very nice.

Shaking his head, he turned and got the shower running. He turned the dial all the way up, relishing in the steam that slowly accumulated in the room. Only when the room was unbearably humid did he bother stripping out of his clothes, kicking them over into a corner, and stepping into the spray. 

He sighed as the first droplets hit his skin, just shy of scalding. It was perfect, taking away the chill of the rain and easing the familiar soreness in his muscles. He allowed himself a few minutes to just luxuriate in the spray of the water; it wasn’t every day that he got to enjoy a private shower, after all, and here he was getting  _ two _ in the span of eight hours. 

He could get used to this.

Two bottles had appeared in the tub since his last time in this bathroom - identical little blue ones, presumably shampoo and conditioner, set out next to a bar of pale green soap. Byleth’s? Curious, Felix bent to pick one up, flicking open the cap. 

It smelled like sea salt and citrus - not overly strong or astringent, but pleasant and clean.

Before he could think twice, he poured a decent amount out and began to lather up his hair. It was either that or the hotel shampoo, he reasoned, and those samples were trash. They would leave his hair dry and tangled, and while he didn’t consider himself a particularly vain person, even he had his limits. 

He used some of the conditioner too, running it through his hair until it was like silk in his fingers, and then scrubbed the rest of himself clean with a washrag. Satisfied that he no longer stank of sweat and asphalt, he shut off the shower and stepped out into the steam, searching blindly for a towel. 

It was only after he’d dried off that he realized he hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes with him into the bathroom. 

“Fuck.”

He stood, scowling at his reflection once again. Now what did he do? Try and sneak out to grab a pair of shorts, hoping that the noise of the shower hadn’t woken Byleth? 

As if he had any other options. He couldn’t stay in here all night. 

Steeling himself, he slipped out into the main room, pausing at the end of the short hallway that led to where the bed was. He poked his head around cautiously, looking for Byleth’s familiar head of green hair. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit when he saw she was face down in a veritable mountain of blankets, eyes shut, lips slightly parted and most definitely dead to the world. 

Good. That made this easier.

He ducked down, easing open his bag to grab the first pair of underwear that he found. A pair of the leggings he liked to wear to sleep were his next find, but a shirt proved more elusive. After a minute of frantic searching and several whispered curses, he gave up with a huff, slinking back into the safety of the bathroom to dress. 

It wasn’t ideal - he hated sleeping shirtless. It always left him feeling cold come morning, and Felix  _ hated _ the cold. But there was only so quiet one could be while rummaging through a duffel bag made of synthetic material, and he was already pressing his luck.

He could deal with it for one night. 

Slipping back to the bed was easier the second time, now that he was more confident Byleth wouldn't notice. He sat down on the edge, watching for any sign of wakefulness, and then drew up his feet until his full weight rested on the mattress. When she didn’t so much as move for a full minute, he finally allowed himself to lay down, dragging the blankets up with him as he did.

Another minute passed before he felt comfortable relaxing, settling into a more comfortable position for the night. 

There.

He’d done it. 

They were sharing the bed - companionably. 

He turned his head to the side, just able to make out Byleth’s head from over the top of the pillow she'd wedged into the middle of the bed. She was facing him, one hand tucked up close to her chin, green hair fanning out across the pillow. Her breaths were steady, even, deep. 

Well and truly asleep.

As he should be, he reminded himself, stifling a yawn. He’d gotten up early to review his notes for his final, taken said final exam, and then spent the next six hours in a car. And he’d managed to fit in a run. Normally, that would have been enough to knock him out within five minutes.

Tonight, though…

Byleth made a soft, small noise in her sleep, and his eyes flicked back up to her face. It was strange, he thought - most people looked younger when they were asleep, their expressions smooth and relaxed. But Byleth looked no different than she did when awake. 

Well, save for the fact that her mouth was hanging open. And her eyes were closed.

But otherwise, it was the same.

Some people thought Byleth emotionless, her affect as flat as it was now while she slept. Felix had thought so too at first, perturbed at how  _ unaffected _ she seemed by, well, everything. He had no such luxury; when he felt something, whatever it was, it tended to show - in the cant of his head, the turn of his lips, the quirk of his brows. Byleth seemingly had no such tells. 

And yet, slowly, he had noticed that that wasn’t quite true. 

She  _ did _ have tells. She did show emotions - if you knew how to look for them. A slow blink meant she was processing something with the same cautious, practical logic she applied to everything. A tilt of her head meant she didn’t know how to phrase what she wanted to say, and she had a tendency to bite her lip for a fraction of a second when she found something funny. 

They were slight movements, and never lasted more than a moment. But Felix caught them; with as much as he'd studied her, he knew them almost as well as he knew his own. 

At first, he told himself he’d been watching her to try and discover these tells, to commit them to memory and use them against her in a future fight. But then he’d learned them, and she’d kept winning - and he’d kept on looking. 

He supposed he didn’t have an excuse now. 

He just liked looking. 

But if she were to wake suddenly, and find him staring at her while she was asleep… that would be less than ideal. Creepy, even.

Felix shifted, turning his face towards the wall and ignoring the heat in his cheeks. He closed his eyes, trying to force all thoughts of Byleth from his mind.

It proved more difficult than he would have guessed, her every breath a reminder that she lay no more than a foot away. Even the warmth of the blankets, a comfort he’d normally indulge in, only made it all the more obvious that there was another person in his bed. 

And then there were the  _ noises - _

Fuck. 

It could be worse. She could be… talking or sighing or, Goddess above,  _ moaning. _ Instead, she was just making normal sleeping noises, the sounds everyone made as they shifted positions or fell into a new dream. But each one, each hitch of her breath, jolted him back to alertness, his body hyper aware of her presence once more just as he’d started to grow used it. 

He tried to tune it out at first, figuring he could distract himself. He tried counting backwards from one hundred, he tried to recite his notes from class. He went over all of his fencing forms, and the proper ways to disarm someone in a fight. He even went so far as to design a new training program for every person in their class, tailoring to each person’s specific strengths and weaknesses.

That got him nowhere.

Next, he tried throwing the blanket over his head to drown out the sounds. Somehow, they just made them even worse. 

His final attempt at ignoring Byleth was ducking his head underneath his pillow, pressing its folds down over his head. But he quickly found that that made it difficult to, well, breathe, and he wasn’t about to pass out because he couldn’t handle sleeping in the same bed as the woman he-

Nope.

Sylvain and Ingrid would never let him hear the end of it.

He gave up, returning his head to its proper position. Somehow, all of his fussing had failed to wake Byleth. She was still asleep, face as peaceful and smooth as when he’d first settled into the bed. 

Forlorn, Felix closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Eventually, sometime early in the morning, Felix finally did drift off to sleep. 

He knew that, because when next he opened his eyes, sunlight was beginning to peek out from behind the curtains of the room’s lone window. It wasn’t the sun that had woken him though; it wasn’t quite high enough in the sky for that.

No, he had a feeling that the thing that had woken him up was the leg a still sleeping Byleth had haphazardly thrown atop his groin, the pillow between them be damned, her thigh pressing down insistently upon what had to be the most poorly timed erection he’d ever gotten. 

He flushed, throwing a hand over his face to stifle the noise that threatened to escape his mouth as she unconsciously rubbed her leg against his dick. 

_ Fuck. _

He took a deep breath through his nose, willing himself to calm. 

It wasn’t his fault he was hard, he reasoned; he was a young, healthy guy with an average sex drive. These things happened, no need for embarrassment. He just needed to get Byleth off him, and then he could go to the bathroom, take care of business, and go on with his life. 

Easy.

Gently, he placed a hand around the bottom of her thigh, trying to ignore the fact that the shorts she was wearing had ridden up in the night and he was touching bare, smooth skin. He pulled, almost sighing at the sudden relief, and then pushed her knee to the side, hoping it would continue in the trajectory he'd set for it and lie flat alongside her other leg.

No such luck.

As soon as he released his hold on her leg, she swung it right back where she’d had it before - only this time, her aim was a little lower. 

A little more force, and he’d have been in a lot of pain.

But of course she managed to slide her leg between his thighs with  _ just _ enough pressure in  _ just _ the right place, and this time, the noise really did slip from between his lips. 

He froze as Byleth shifted beside him, hoping against hope that she was just changing position. Her breathing beside him had gone quiet, though, and that typically meant-

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- _

He looked down, uncertain, straight into a pair of very green, very bewildered eyes. 

“Felix?”

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: Fuck, a Memoir by Felix Hugo Fraldarius


	9. Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this out! Husband and I are moving this week (FANTASTIC timing, I know, lmao, but this was planned long in advance of pandemic) and we have been busy packing our whole lives into boxes :))))
> 
> Coming up: FEELS

Upon awakening, Byleth realized two very important things. 

The first was that she had moved at some point in the night, scooting dangerously close to Felix, one of her legs brazenly thrown across his thighs. 

The second was that Felix was not wearing anything except for a pair of ridiculously skintight leggings that left nothing to the imagination. She could feel the muscles of his legs through the thin fabric, thighs clenched tight around her own, and just a little higher than that, pressing insistently against her was -

That was most definitely a half-hard cock.

Byleth jerked back as if she’d been burned, tangling herself up in the sheets. She struggled, limbs flailing every way which way. That achieved absolutely nothing, and within a few moments, she’d managed to not only wrap the blankets more tightly around herself, she also flopped out of the bed entirely, landing on the floor with a rather unceremonious “Oomph!” 

It was utterly embarrassing. She couldn’t even conjure up the courage to move. Instead, she just stared at the ceiling, wondering if it would be too dramatic if she fled to the bathroom and stood under the shower for an hour or two. 

Felix’s head popped into her field of vision, mild concern on his face. “Did you just fall off the bed?” he asked.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his inky hair was pooling over his shoulders like water, and Byleth tried to keep her eyes on his face, tried to keep her eyes above the shoulders, but she’d just woken up and she wasn’t quite awake, and Goddess help her, she might’ve hit her head when she fell over-

She looked.

She looked, eyes sweeping over a trim, lithe torso and toned, muscular arms. He was flushed too, a delightful pink color sweeping across his collarbones. From embarrassment? Was he hot? 

Or maybe she wasn’t the only one so affected by her unconscious actions.

She looked away, swallowing. 

“Tell me you didn’t hit your head, too.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, sitting up. “I just…” She trailed off, waving a hand. “You know.”

Felix shot her a look. “...I know.”

“My foot got caught.”

“In the blankets.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“And then you fell off the bed.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Because your foot got caught.”

Something in his tone caught her attention, and she plucked up the courage to look back at Felix’s face. He wasn’t smiling, not really - but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes, one corner of his mouth twisting up despite himself. 

A laugh tore itself from her throat. “I guess that’s a pretty lame excuse, huh?”

He snorted, sitting back now that he’d determined she wasn’t actually injured. “You won’t win any awards for it,” he replied. 

She pulled herself to her feet, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the bed. An apology was already half-formed on her lips when Felix shook his head, scowling. 

“Don’t.”

Byleth quirked an eyebrow. 

“It was an accident, right?” She nodded. “Then, just - don’t. Don’t bother apologizing.”

He wasn’t looking at her, eyes fixed on a spot on the mattress. Were it up to her, she would’ve pressed the issue, made sure things were fine between them. But something in his body language was off, and she could tell he wouldn’t be particularly receptive to that line of conversation right about now. 

She changed tack. 

“When did you get in last night?”

He blinked, eyes flicking back towards her. “Late,” he replied. 

“I didn’t even hear you come in.”

He snorted at that. “You were pretty out of it.”

She cringed, hoping she hadn’t done anything too embarrassing as she slept. She didn’t snore, as far as she knew, and none of her hook-ups had ever accused her of kicking or stealing all of the covers during their typical morning after cup of coffee. But it was an admittedly small sample size, and she didn’t have the best track record when it came to falling asleep gracefully. 

“Did you have a good run, at least?”

Felix wrinkled his nose. “It was… wet,” he said. “And cold.”

“You could have run on the treadmill - I think there’s a gym.”

His eyes narrowed. “You know how I feel about treadmills.”

She smiled. That she did. “Doesn’t it make a mess out of your hair, though? Mine’s always tangled when I run in the rain.”

To her surprise, he blushed. 

“Ah,” he said, swallowing. “I… used your shampoo afterwards. And your conditioner. To get the worst of the tangles out.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

Byleth blinked, eyes roving over his hair. It was beautiful, falling around his face like silk, bangs brushed to the side, and if it had ever been affected by the rain, it certainly didn’t look like it. It wasn’t even creased, despite him having slept on it the night before while it was still wet from the shower. 

Truth be told, she was a little jealous. 

“It’s alright,” she said, remembering that Felix was still waiting for an answer. “I don’t mind.”

He nodded, as if that settled the matter - and it did, she supposed. Neither of them were the type to drag a conversation out past its prime.

But now she’d run out of things to talk about - and that brought her attention back to the fact that both of them were sitting on a bed, clad in nothing but their pajamas, and it was still hours before Leonie would likely call her with an answer on the scholarship offer.

A part of her was surprised Felix hadn’t already bolted - off to run, off to his car, off to…  _ somewhere _ other than here. But there was a stubborn set to his jaw, one hand fisted in the blankets; it seemed he was forcing himself to stay where he was, waiting for her to say something else. 

Waiting for her to make the first move.

It was unlike him - whenever they sparred, he was quick to leap into the fight. He threw the first punch, trying to gain the upper hand from the beginning. He attacked like a whirlwind, with an intensity that had both startled and impressed her. This wasn’t a fight, though - and so Felix was hesitant, wary. 

She took a breath, gathering her thoughts.

“Felix.”

His gaze flicked upwards, finding hers and holding it. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He made a noise of assent, waiting for her to continue. 

“Why did you want to come with me? To Leiceister, I mean.” She paused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t get me wrong - I’m glad that you offered to come with me. But… surely you had better things to do, with the term ending. Did you and Sylvain not have plans?”

Felix snorted. “Sylvain will spend his break the same way he spends all of his breaks - on a beach chasing women and being chased out of bars, doing as little work as he possibly can.”

“And you didn’t want to join him?”

“I’m not interested in that.”

“But surely you had other plans?” she asked, persistent. “Getting a job, working an internship…?”

He huffed out a breath, brow furrowing. “I didn’t have anything lined up,” he said. “It was either this, or go back to my father’s house.” 

Oh.

She sat back, not quite able to hide her disappointment. But it made sense - Felix had told her about his father, and how their relationship was… strained. Unlike most of his fellow students, he hadn’t gone home at any point in the semester, and she’d never once heard him mention getting anything in the mail or receiving any phone calls from home. It made sense that he’d leap at the first opportunity to avoid that for another few days. 

She’d just thought-

“No.”

She looked up to see Felix’s scowl had deepened, though it didn’t appear directed at her.

“That’s not… that’s not right. I didn’t - I  _ don’t _ \- want to go home, it’s true, but I  _ wanted _ to come with you.” He put a hand to his head, as if he was struggling to find words. “When I saw you were packing, I panicked. I thought you had decided to leave for good.” 

“I haven’t decided anything just yet,” she admitted.

“I know that,” he snapped. He let out a frustrated noise, fingers swiping through his hair. “I just - I didn’t want that to be the last conversation that we had. I had to make sure it wouldn’t be.” 

“I wouldn’t have done that to you - just left like that,” she said. “Not without clearing things up.”

He eyed her cautiously, as if he wanted to believe her but wasn’t quite convinced. 

“I haven’t done a very good of it, though, have I?” she asked. She snorted, shaking her head. “It’s been almost a week since I asked you to talk, and we haven’t discussed anything.”

“Then talk.” He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms over his chest. “We have time now, don’t we?”

She bit her lower lip, giving a small nod. “We do.” 

“Then talk,” he said again. 

Felix appreciated honesty. He appreciated people who said what they thought and acted accordingly. That would be the best approach here, Byleth decided, however reticent she was to just dive right into things. He wouldn’t judge her for fumbling her way through, as long as she made her point. 

She could do this. She  _ had _ to do this, if she wanted things between the two of them to progress anywhere. No more hesitation. 

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and started to speak.

“I like you, Felix - I like you a lot. I think you know that - and... I think you feel the same way about me. I think that’s the reason you don’t want me to leave the university; I think that’s why you ultimately wanted to come with me here.” She paused, looking up from the hole she’d bored into the comforter with her eyes. “Am I right?”

He didn’t immediately reply, and so she spoke again, her nerves getting the better of her.

“If I’m wrong, then I’m sorry, and I’ll shut up, and I promise I’ll never mention this again. But if I’m right, you have to tell me, because that… that would factor into my decision about whether I stick around or leave.”

He inhaled sharply at that. Encouraged, Byleth kept going. 

“And it’s not just you - I’ve made friends here. For the first time in my life, I have a group of people that  _ choose _ to be around me. There’s a handful of people that want my advice and want to share things with me and do things with me. Do you know how  _ good _ that feels? I don’t want to just give that up. And if, on top of all of that, I had someone who lov - someone who cared for me?” She shook her head. “I think I could find a way to stay here.”

She paused again, giving him time to answer - but still, Felix said nothing. 

Disappointing - but she would push through. She would finish with what she had to say. After all, she’d come this far. What harm was there in finishing now?

“If I’m being honest, you stopped feeling like just another student a while ago. You were, of course, and looking back, I’m not sure all of those late night training sessions weren’t completely inappropriate, but - you felt it, right? This - this thing? It isn’t just me? I just-”

She broke off, waving a hand dismissively. “I just need to know, Felix.”

Her face was on fire; she could feel it, cheeks burning with her admission. Every instinct was telling her to duck her head, to hide behind her hair. But she forced herself to keep looking straight ahead. She wanted to show Felix that she was serious, that she was being sincere as she laid her heart bare.

He was staring at her, too, his brown eyes near black in this light. For once, it was him who was unreadable, his face tight and closed off. He was so still, like a statue against the headboard; she half-wondered then if he’d heard her, or if she’d mumbled her way through her entire confession. She wasn’t sure she could repeat it all again. 

But maybe he needed time. 

Perhaps he needed more than just the space of a few minutes to process this. She could understand that; in many situations, she preferred to take a step back and assess before rushing into a decision. It seemed a little uncharacteristic of Felix to hesitate, but then again, this wasn’t something that happened every day. 

She shifted, moving to get up so that she could give him some space. If she took a shower, a long shower, maybe that would give him the time he needed and she could gather what remained of her confidence-

Before she could so much as set a foot on the floor, she found herself flat on her back, wrists firmly but gently pressed down into the mattress by her head. She blinked, caught completely off-guard, as Felix leaned over her, the expression on his face so intense, so focused, it took her breath away.

“Yes.”

All the breath left her lungs at once. “Yes?”

“I do - like you.” He was flushing furiously now, pink bloomed to full red. But she saw the same determination she’d felt earlier on his face now, and he wasn’t shying away from her gaze any longer. “And you should stay - here, with me.” 

He leaned down even further, and for a moment, Byleth thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he pressed his face to the curve of her neck, his breath ghosting along her skin and trailing goosebumps in its wake. 

“Stay, Byleth. Please.”

It wasn’t a word Felix said very often. Felix asked, and Felix demanded - but in all the time she had known him, Felix Fraldarius had never begged or pleaded for anything.

This was startlingly close.

Carefully, so as not to startle him, she took back control of her hand, slipping it down a few inches so she could tangle her fingers in his. He gripped back with a desperate pressure that bordered on pain. 

More than any words could, that simple action showed her the depth of his feelings. He didn’t have to say anything else right now - maybe he couldn’t. But Felix always had been a man of actions more than words, and his behavior right now was telling her everything that she needed to know.

It was easy enough to decide what to do from there.

Relief flooding through her veins like a drug, she nodded. “Okay,” she breathed, his voice ruffling his hair. His hands tightened on hers, squeezing. 

She squeezed right back.

“I’ll stay.”

* * *

“This is so exciting!”

Byleth watched as Leonie bent over the sheet of paper before her, eagerly signing her name - while promising the next four years of her life away - at the bottom. The girl’s enthusiasm was contagious; even Felix, crammed into a corner of the gymnasium with his arms crossed over his chest, looked affected, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“There’s still a part of me that doesn’t feel like this is real,” Leonie admitted, handing Byleth the official documents that made her a future Garreg Mach Pegasus Knight. “I feel like I need to pinch myself, to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s real,” Byleth assured her, holding up the folder she’d take back to Jeralt for processing by the athletic department. “This proves it.”

“I’ve just wanted this for so long. It’s a little hard to believe it’s actually happening.” Leonie snorted, shaking her head. “Listen to me - I sound ridiculous.”

Byleth smiled. “No, you don’t.”

“Was it like this for you? When you went off to college?”

“Actually, I never went.”

At the time, it hadn’t seemed necessary - at eighteen, she hadn’t had a clue what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. So when Jeralt had offered her a job that had opened up on his coaching staff, she’d taken it and never looked back. Sometimes, she wondered what her life would have been like if she’d gone off to school instead. But if she’d done that, she likely never would’ve gotten to meet all of the people she’d befriended along the way. 

She certainly never would have met Felix.

“Oh - oh, I’m sorry,” Leonie said, dismayed. “That was rude of me to assume.”

“It’s a fair assumption,” Byleth said, shaking her head. 

“I just thought - well, because you teach with Jeralt -”

“My route was a little more unconventional,” Byleth insisted. “But... I think what you’re feeling is normal.”

“Yeah?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”

Leonie gave her a small smile. “Thanks. For all of this - not just talking with me. I know my family was really looking forward to getting to do an in-person signing, so when I heard that Jeralt had thrown his back out…”

“He wanted to be here,” Byleth assured her. “It was important to him. Though, uh… maybe don’t mention the part about throwing his back out. He’s still a little touchy on that one.” 

Leonie laughed. “Good to know. But still, I’m glad you got to come in his stead. And hey, I’ll be working with you too, right? Next semester? So it’s good that I get to meet you now!” 

Byleth’s eyes flickered over to Felix, still skulking in his corner. It took only a few moments for him to notice her gaze, and he straightened, lifting an eyebrow in question.

She smiled. “Maybe you will.”

Sharp as a tack, Leonie tracked her attention across the room. “Is your boyfriend ever going to come over here?” she asked, snorting. “He realizes how weird he looks, standing in the corner like that, right?”

“Boyfriend?” Byleth repeated dumbly. She cleared her throat. “He’s, ah - he’s not my boyfriend.”

_ Not yet, _ a helpful little part of her mind added. 

Leonie’s expression was mild. “Does he know that?”

“Do I know what?”

Goddess, but his hearing was good - Felix was still a good ten feet away from them, and he’d heard Leonie’s question, eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took his place at Byleth’s side. 

“Nothing,” she said quickly, shooting Leonie a look. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Leonie said. “I was just teasing Byleth. So, maybe I’ll get to see you next year? You’re on Jeralt’s team too, right?”

“Maybe,” Felix allowed, still looking at the two of them rather suspiciously. 

“Well, I hope to see you later, then! You’ll have to give me some pointers on campus life!”

Byleth was quickly learning that Leonie was an eternal optimist. She could guess what Felix’s tips for a successful college experience would include, and none of them were particularly helpful. 

To her very great surprise, he seemed to consider her proposition seriously. 

“Avoid the dining hall after seven,” he said. “Everyone will have gotten the good food by then.”

Leonie waved this off easily. “Oh, that’s not a problem - I’ll eat anything! Can’t let perfectly edible food go to waste, right?”

“Edible,” he repeated, frowning. “Right.”

“Maybe you can show me around the training center! You look like you know your way around a gym.”

Felix frowned. “It’s a gym,” he said, flat. “What’s there to-”

“Leonie! We’re getting to ready to leave! Are you coming?”

Leonie twisted, waving to a group of her friends gathered by the doors to the gym. “I’ll be there in a second!” She turned back, shooting Byleth and Felix an apologetic look. “Sorry, I have to go now - my friends want to take me out for dinner. To celebrate, and everything!” 

“Of course,” Byleth said. 

“Thanks again! I really appreciate it, and… I’ll see you next term!” 

“Hmph.” Felix crossed his arms over his chest, frowning. “I hope she doesn’t really expect me to show her around the training center.”

Byleth put a hand on his arm, pulling him towards where Felix had parked his car. She half-expected resistance, but he went along willingly, matching his stride to hers. “I’m sure Jeralt will have someone show them the ropes,” she replied. “Someone a little more… friendly.”

Felix snorted. 

“Don’t worry - you won’t be involved.”

“But... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” 

She nearly stopped in her tracks. “What?” 

He shrugged. “She didn’t seem so bad, compared to some of the new recruits we’ve gotten,” he allowed. “I can think of worse people to show around campus.”

Shaking her head, Byleth climbed into the passenger seat. “You’d hate every second of it, and you know it.”

“Probably.” He turned the car on, checking his mirrors and shifting into gear before looking at her for direction. “Back to the hotel?”

She nodded, taking a look at her watch. “We’ve got about an hour before most places start serving dinner,” she said slowly. “We might as well. I’m sure we can find something to do.”

“I have a few ideas.”

Heat lanced through her, sharp and unexpected. She looked up to find Felix smirking at her, a knowing look in his eyes. They’d gone dark again, pupils blown wide. 

Byleth bit her lip. “You do?” she asked, unable to come up with anything better.

“Maybe we can finish what _you_ started earlier,” he said, eyes flicking down her face - from her eyes to her lips, and then farther down still, to her neck and breasts. She flushed under the scrutiny; he seemed pleased by that, his smirk deepening. "If you remember."

She remembered. She didn't think it likely she'd ever fucking forget that-

“Shall we?” he drawled. 

Byleth had never agreed to anything more quickly in her life. 

Judging by how the car's tires squealed as Felix peeled out of the parking lot, he felt the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	10. Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry AGAIN for the delay in getting this out - please have 3,500 words of smut with some floof at the end as my apology!

Later on, if she were asked, Byleth would have to say she didn’t remember very much about the drive from the gym back to their hotel. 

It could have lasted an hour; more likely, it had lasted ten minutes. Truth be told, she hadn’t really been paying attention. They could have been driving to a field in the middle of nowhere and she wouldn’t have noticed.

She only had eyes for Felix, his hands gripped tight around the steering wheel. He was wholly focused on the task at hand, muttering curse words under his breath each time they got stopped by an errant red light. He wasn’t… jittery; Felix didn’t get jittery. At least, not in the nervous, tap your foot, keep moving from side to side kind of jittery. 

But he was anxious. That, Byleth could tell. 

She could see it in every sidelong glance he sent her, eyes sweeping from her face down her body in a brazen show of want. She could see it in the way his lips would curve up into a smirk when he caught her looking back at him. 

It made her body burn, desire surging like fire in her veins.

He was on her as soon as he parked the car, jumping out of the driver’s seat and making his way around to the passenger side in a blink of an eye. His hands were hot against her skin where he pulled her up, his body caging her in as he slammed the car door shut behind her. He wasn’t that much bigger than her, truth being told. But this close, elbows and knees knocking into each other as their bodies slotted together, she had to crane her neck up just a bit to see into his face. 

Byleth shivered, not at all displeased with what she saw there.

“Inside?” Felix asked. 

Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips. “Inside,” she confirmed.

He didn’t take her by the hand. That was, perhaps, a little sentimental for their current situation. 

The door to their room had scarcely shut behind her before he was pressing her back against it, arms pinning her in place. She inhaled sharply, not entirely on purpose, her hands falling into place on his forearms. “Felix-”

“I like you.”

Byleth blinked, caught off-guard. “I… I like you, too,” she replied. 

“That’s not-” He shook his head, brows furrowing. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“You _don’t_ like me, then?”

“No, I - of course I like you. I just said that.” He paused, huffing out a breath. “I don’t just want to fuck you.” 

Oh.

_Oh._

“To be clear, that isn’t what this is,” he continued, his gaze intent. “Not for me. But if it is for you…”

She raised a hand to his face, her thumb smoothing over the angular cheekbone. He pressed into it, eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her answer. 

“Felix,” she said, voice soft, “Of course it’s not.”

His relief was palpable.

“Thank fuck,” he breathed.

And then he was kissing her, and all rational thought left her. 

Felix kissed the way he fought - like it was a battle, and there was something to be won. There was nothing gentle in the way his lips moved against hers, the way his tongue quickly pried her mouth open and delved inside to taste her. 

But if there was anyone as competitive, as driven to win as Felix was, it was Byleth. She surged up against him, kissing him back, hard. Her hand moved from the side of his face to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned, lips falling slack for just a moment; elated at having gotten such a response, she pulled again, eliciting another delicious noise that sent a lance of pure heat spiking through her.

“Stop that,” Felix muttered against her. 

She grinned. “Why?” she shot back. The hand in his hair moved up, wrapping around his ponytail and pulling it taut. “I think you like it.”

He snorted, though the sound lacked true derision. “Two can play at that game.”

Without warning, he pulled back. Byleth’s eyes snapped open, intent upon asking him just what he thought he was doing, stopping like that. But then he darted forward again, his lips connecting with her throat, and her words died in her mouth. 

“Fuck,” she whimpered, squirming as his lips and tongue left a trail of fire down her neck, ending in the hollow at the top of her collarbone. He bit down, hard enough to make her hiss, and then pressed a kiss into the bruise she could already feel starting to form. “Felix-”

She felt rather than saw his lips curve up in a smile. “Yes?”

“Don’t stop.”

He huffed a breath, cold against the skin he’d laved with his tongue, and she shivered. “I don’t plan to,” he retorted.

He pressed a series of kisses against her neck in swift succession, each a little higher than the last, teeth leaving little marks against her skin, until he finally found her mouth again. This kiss was more skilled, Felix doing things with his tongue that made her toes curl in her shoes, and Byleth pressed into him willingly. He was good - _very_ good, and she couldn’t help but wonder what else his mouth would be good at doing.

The stray thought drove her to action. She pushed back, forcing Felix to move with her or be pushed to the floor. He didn’t miss a beat as she led them to the bed, or when she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down. His hands even came up to her hips as she sank down into his lap, guiding her into place and holding her steady. 

It was right where she wanted him.

She rolled her hips, leaning into the hardness that had started to press insistently against her thigh as they were kissing. Felix shuddered, making a noise halfway between a moan and a growl as his fingers tightened against her. Encouraged, Byleth repeated the motion, dragging herself back and forth against the seat of his jeans, not once breaking the kiss. Her movements were slow, tortuously so - meant to tease, to slowly drive the man beneath her wild. 

It seemed she was succeeding, if the way Felix’s breath had gone labored was any indication. She grinned against his mouth, catching his lower lip between her teeth and pulling. 

“Shit,” he breathed, hands digging into her hips. 

“Do you like that?” she teased. She slowed her movements, drawing back to look back at his face. 

He glared up at her, the effect somewhat lessened by the flush staining his cheeks. “Don’t fucking stop,” he snapped, repeating her earlier demand. 

She opened her mouth, a quick retort on her tongue, when he flipped them, pinning her to the bed in one easy motion. 

All the breath left her at once - it was a move she’d seen him do hundreds of times in the training center, allowing him to turn the tide on his often much larger, heavier opponents. He’d even attempted it on her a few times - but she’d always seen it coming. She knew his tells, and she knew better than to let herself get into a position where a simple pinning maneuver would lose her the round.

Not this time, it seemed. 

The smirk on his face was triumphant. But he didn’t take time to relish this victory, leaning down to catch her mouth with his once more. He was ruthless, his mouth no longer carefully easing over her own, but rough, demanding, almost bruising. 

Byleth loved every second of it.

She broke away first, twisting her head to the side. With another twist, she managed to free one of her hands, bringing it down between them to grab at the hem of her shirt. Felix sat back, giving her more room to maneuver, and she brought it over her head in one quick motion, tossing it to the side. 

“Yours now,” she panted, putting a hand to his chest.

He obliged, his shirt joining hers on the floor. He didn’t stop there, either, shimmying out of his skinny jeans in an impressively short amount of time. 

Byleth didn’t bother hiding her stare. 

Felix lifted an eyebrow at her ogling. “See something you like?”

She bit her lip, giving his firm, toned ass one last glance before meeting his gaze. “I don’t know,” she teased. “I think I need a closer look.”

He snorted at that, hooking a hand into the waistband of her jeans. “That can be arranged.” His other hand came up to join the first, resting on the button in a silent question.

She lifted her hips in answer. 

Now it was Felix’s turn to stare.

Keeping her eyes on his face, she reached down, pulling at the hem of her underwear. She kept her hand where it was for a moment, savoring the look on his face - like he’d never think of anything else again but her, exactly like this; she wanted to keep it in her head, to always remember this face when she thought of him. 

Sentimental of her, perhaps.

Or practical, she reasoned, unable to deny the way a simple look was driving her mad, her underwear already soaked. Best save that image for later.

But Felix wasn’t infinitely patient, and neither was she. She pushed her underwear down, kicking them off and letting them pool on the floor with the rest of their clothes.

He said nothing, taking a step forward and pushing her thighs open a little wider. Could he see it? Could he tell how much she wanted him? Shit, he could probably _smell_ it, she didn’t think she had ever been this aroused by another person in her life-

Abruptly, he dropped to his knees, bracing himself against the mattress. 

“How many times has someone made you come in one night?”

Byleth’s mind went completely blank, her stomach clenching with pure want.

“I - twice, I think,” she said faintly. 

Felix made a derisive sound, one hand trailing up her inner thigh and settling dangerously close to her cunt. She had to fight not to squirm. But he was right there, he was so _close-_

“We’ll see about that.”

It was so arrogant, so assured, so very _Felix_ that she had to laugh, a breathless, high-pitched thing that sounded nothing like her usual laugh. 

Then his mouth was on her, and the noise turned into a keen, her back arching as his tongue licked up the length of her and into her folds. It was so sudden, his lips settling around her clit, and so _good,_ so hot and wet and _dammit,_ if she had known he was this good at giving head, she might’ve-

“Shit,” she panted, pushing up with her hips, desperate for more. She felt like she was on _fire,_ heat racing down her spine, through her veins. Already, hot, liquid want pooled in her belly, and she snaked a hand down into his hair, gripping it tight.

Felix didn’t seem to mind, based on the noises he was making. He pushed one leg to the side, leaning forward even more, encouraging her other leg up and over his shoulder. 

“Oh, goddess,” she breathed, her heel digging into his back. 

She threw her head back against the bed as he delved back inside her with his tongue, some guttural and broken sound torn from her lips. 

“Felix,” she said, pulling on his hair. “I’m close.” 

He said nothing, but a quick glance down and she could see the challenge in his eyes, telling her to let go, to let herself fall off that edge into oblivion. 

She did, violently, only a few minutes later, Felix’s name on her mouth as the orgasm ripped through her. She was shaking, every part of her, like a leaf, and still, he worked at her with his mouth, licking, kissing, sucking. It was only that the pleasure was beginning to border on over-stimulation that he drew back, watching her intently.

“What?” she asked when she was capable of speech again, uncertain of what he was thinking. 

He shrugged, moving to the bed and propping himself up beside her. “You curse a lot during sex,” he replied.

She huffed out a laugh. “Only when it’s good sex,” she retorted.

He quirked a smile at her. “Fair.”

He starting kissed her again, then, and she found herself cursing once more.

“You’re too good at this,” she murmured, breath hitching as his hands ghosted up her sides. 

“I don’t see you complaining.”

“Not at all,” she breathed, a sigh falling from her lips as his fingers settled on the curve of one of her breasts. He squeezed, fingers toying with her nipple until it pebbled and she squirmed against him. “I could do without the teasing, though.”

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back. 

“Oh?” she asked, reaching a hand down to palm his cock. He swore loudly as she started to move, jerking him off through his underwear. “A tease, am I?”

He let his forehead fall against hers, hips unexpectedly snapping up as her hand moved down. “Fuck,” he muttered. 

“Take these off,” she said, pinching the fabric.

He obliged, leaving his cock hot and heavy in her hand. She gripped him tight, thumbing at the pre-come beading at the tip, barely resisting the urge to bring a finger to her lips and taste him. 

Another time, she told herself. When they weren’t quite so desperate. Right now, she wanted was more interested in him fucking her into the mattress, and judging from the desperate edge that had crept into his voice, he did too.

“Did you bring anything? Condoms?” she panted, hissing as his mouth found her nipple. 

He flicked his tongue, and she groaned, hand stilling in her distraction. 

Through a haze of pleasure, she heard the sound of something ripping and the rolling snap of elastic. Then Felix was shifting against her, abandoning her breast to move up to her face. He kissed her - hard, teeth scraping against her lips - and then he was pushing inside her, burying himself into her cunt.

“Felix,” she breathed, hands clutching at his shoulders. “Goddess, I-”

“Fuck-”

“ _Move._ ”

Felix moved, pulling back and snapping his hips forward, setting a rhythm that was slow but intense. Shit, but it was delicious, the drag of it, each thrust hitting a spot deep within her that had her toes curling. 

One hand on the headboard, the other buried in her hair, Felix was a fucking vision above her. Byleth didn’t think she’d ever seen something quite so hot - hair plastered to his forehead, stomach muscles taut with the effort. And his eyes… they were locked on her, narrowed in concentration, blown black with desire. 

She would be ruined for anyone else, after this.

She wrapped a leg around his back, forcing him deeper still. 

“Shit, Byleth-” he stuttered, his movements slowing just a fraction as her core tightened around him. He was breathing heavily now, face and chest flushed red with heat.

He was close - she could feel it.

Time to make her move.

Mimicking his earlier maneuver, she pushed with her legs and twisted, forcing him onto his back. With a grin, she sank down onto his cock, using the headboard for leverage as the new position forced his dick even deeper within her.

“Goddess, that’s good,” she moaned, bouncing up and down a few more times before he caught up with what she had done.

Then his hands were at her hips, slowing her down, gripping her tight. For each of her downward movements, he snapped his hips up, meeting her halfway. She couldn’t stop the noises she was making now; they were involuntary, breathy gasps, noises she barely believed she was capable of making. 

No one had ever made her sound like this before. She didn’t even sound like this when she fucked her hand, and she knew exactly what she liked.

It wouldn’t last too much longer; she didn’t think she could. Her entire body was shaking, a second orgasm creeping on her. It was slower this time, a gentle cresting instead of one, massive tidal wave. 

Felix sensed it, snapping his hips up in one, two, three final thrusts before she shattered, head lolling back as the heat washed over her once again. Beneath her, she heard him utter one last curse and the sound of her name before he too went still, hands falling slack at her waist. 

It was all she could do not to collapse afterwards, rolling off Felix with as much grace as she could muster. He threw an arm over her, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair, his breathing still quick and shallow. 

“Fuck me,” she gasped, sighing. 

“I just did.”

She snorted, giving him a half-hearted shove. 

“Give me a half hour though, and we can go again.”

Byleth hummed contentedly. “You did promise me at least three orgasms,” she replied. “If you want to beat the record.”

"The night is young."

They fell quiet after that, the both of them content to bask in the afterglow. Felix, it seemed, was surprisingly cuddly after sex. Though they were sweaty and sticky and probably smelled like ass, he didn’t seem to want to let her go. His entire body was curled around her, touching every part of her that he could. It was almost possessive, in a way that Byleth found she liked.

Eventually, though, necessity got the better of them, and Felix withdrew, padding off to the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later with a washcloth and a cup of water. 

She laughed, accepting both. “It’s like we just ran a race,” she said, cleaning herself off before taking a drink. 

Felix considered this. “Sex probably burns fewer calories,” he mused. He smirked then, his eyes dancing wickedly. “But it’s more fun.”

“Much more fun,” she agreed. 

“I have something for you.”

Byleth blinked at this abrupt change in topic, sitting up. It was then that she noticed the small package in Felix’s hands - a long, rectangular box, it was wrapped in a fancy, gilded paper, a golden bow even adorning the lid. 

He noticed her staring and scowled. “I didn’t ask for the bow,” he huffed. 

“Of course not,” she agreed. 

Felix would never.

He hesitated a few more moments before thrusting the gift towards her, forcing it into her hands. “Here,” he said. “I want you to have this.”

“What is it?”

He didn’t answer. “Just open it.” She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Please.”

Byleth relented, easing the bow off and tearing into the paper as quietly as she could. The box inside was navy, covered in the sort of velvet normally reserved for jewelry boxes. 

Now it was her turn to hesitate, and she looked up, for guidance as much as anything. “Felix, what is this?”

“Open it.”

Inside, on a soft bed of satin, lay a small dagger. No longer than the length of her palm, it seemed made for concealment - were it not for the ornate flowers carved into the hilt, pale gold inlaid into a blue so deep it was almost black. Rather than utilitarian, the decorations made it ornamental, something to be worn visibly, at the hip, perhaps, or the side.

She looked up, speechless.

“It’s a stupid Fraldarius tradition,” Felix ground out, looking at the floor rather than at her. “An Aegis blade - we used to give them to our greatest allies, to show them that they would always be welcome in our home.”

Byleth’s hands curled around the box, something warm and fuzzy and suspiciously emotional starting to bloom in her chest. 

“My father gave one each to me and - and to Glenn,” he continued. “We don’t know what happened to Glenn’s; we thought he might have given it to Ingrid, but… it vanished after the accident. There’s only a few of them left, now.”

“And this one…”

“I'm giving it to you.”

She looked down at the blade, inspecting the inlay a bit more carefully. The flowers were familiar, the shape of the petals vaguely familiar. She knew she’d seen them before, but where - ah. 

Of course.

“Cherry blossoms.”

Felix made a noise of assent, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Byleth shook her head, setting the box to the side and grabbing for Felix’s hand. He sank down to the bed willingly, though he still wouldn’t quite meet her gaze. 

"How long have you had this?"

"The dagger? Forever. It's been mine since the day I was born."

"How long had you planned to give this to me?"

That seemed a more difficult question for him to answer. "I didn't want you to leave," he admitted. "But I didn't know how to tell you. The dagger..."

She nodded, understanding.

He snorted, shaking his head. "It was Sylvain's idea," he continued. "Though I think he had something else in mind when he suggested I get you a gift."

Byleth hummed. "He's not an idiot, that Sylvain."

"Not entirely."

"Out of curiosity, what _was_ his suggestion?"

Felix shot her a dark look. "Take a guess."

She laughed. “Well, I'm glad you didn't listen to him this time. This... it’s beautiful, Felix, truly,” she said, chancing a smile. 

He shrugged it off, saying nothing of the feelings the dagger was meant to represent - it wasn’t his way. Nor would she force it out of him. She didn’t have to, not when it was written so clearly across his face.

He had his tells, Felix.

She smiled, that warmth in her chest threatening to burst free at the guarded-yet-hopeful expression on his face, at the way he was hanging on to her every word.

Happiness, she realized. This was _happiness._

Something in her face must have reassured him. He relaxed, eyes flickering shut for the briefest of moments before settling on her. “And you’re staying.”

“I’m staying,” she agreed, setting the knife aside. “I don’t know what I’m doing yet, but I’m staying.” 

The smile he shot her in return - unabashed, for once, soft and genuine - nearly took her breath away. He leaned forward, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to her lips as he pressed her back down into the sheets.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this random little thing, so I hope it was at least somewhat enjoyable! :)


End file.
